The Cause and Effect Saga - Book 6: Shift
by Faylinn Night
Summary: All it takes is a simple shift to change reality forever. An unknown obsession. A home invasion. A test. When the clan's separated, Raph, Don, and Sophia are hell-bent on retrieving the others from a threat meant to sell them. Along the way, the Hamatos learn some shocking news, and it turns their world upside down. [TMNT/OC] [OC/OC]
1. Prologue

**Summary:** A simple shift can change the course of life. An unknown obsession. A home invasion. Even a test. When the clan's separated, Raph, Don, and Sophia are set on retrieving the others from a threat meant to sell them. But along the way, a truth is revealed and it turns the Hamato's world upside down. [Raphael x OC] [Donatello x OC] [Michelangelo x OC] [OC x OC]  
 **Genre:** Family, Drama, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance  
 **Rating:** Teen - for crude language and, at a time or two, disturbing imagery

 **Author's Notes:** Welcome, Dudes and Dudettes, to " _Shift_ ", the sixth installment within the _Cause and Effect Saga_. Hasn't been much of a break since " _A Tale of Heroes_ " wrapped up. This just goes to show how anxious I've been to get this book done. LOL.

If you've just stumbled upon this series, you may be a little lost since my plot elements carry over several books. It's what I do. That said, for simplicity's sake: Nia belongs to Raphael, Melody belongs to Donatello, and Sophia belongs to Michelangelo. Sophia's mother is Adeline, who's new friends with Nia parents, Gavin and Mia. Gavin and Mia have a past with the main OC Hugh Reese, who met the guys in book 1 "Finding Balance". He's married to Marina.

Got it? Now, hope you enjoy! :D

 **Disclaimer:** Nick belongs to Eastman/Laird/Nick. Nia Hamato/Anders, Melody Hamato/Gray, Sophia Moretti, Hugh Reese, and other OCs are mine. I'm in no way making any money. Thanks.

* * *

 **Prologue**

New York City. Island of Manhattan. Home to over a million city-dwellers and countless other pests. While overpopulated in Chet Black's opinion, the forty-year-old had bitten the bullet and crossed the Hudson from New Jersey. An important mission lay on the other side, one which lured him to its grotesque underbelly on September twenty-fourth.

If anything, at least someone else held the flashlight while he navigated.

"God, Chet, how long do we gotta we keep searching?" Walter Fowler's whine echoed throughout the moist tunnels that the duo traveled. His goulashes kicked the murky water below, and Chet scowled when a cool wetness stuck his pants to his calves.

"Until we reach the signal's origin, Idiot," he said. Above, New York's activity thundered through layers of concrete, pipes, and dirt like some mindless cattle herd—a nerve-wracking sound for someone who'd grown up within a fourteen thousand populace.

"You sure this isn't some wild goose chase? Heather and Shirley put up great fronts. But Roy?"

"Roy saw them too; I know he did." Chet's fingers gripped tighter around the hand-held device his dry eyes focused on. The grid pattern spread across its round screen didn't account for the tunnels; however, a compass near its bottom gave a general idea of his directive. So, he turned left. "The idea of those _things_ …it's been eating at me for months, ever since Black Lotus."

"That place blew sky-high almost a year ago," said Walter. More sloshes echoed as the light beam danced behind Chet. "What makes you think this trip will be worth anything?"

The middle-aged man spun. He inhaled a nauseating amount of ammonia that wafted up from the chilly waters, his gaze narrowed at his Chinese-American partner. "Why voice your skepticism now? You had all month to back out if you wanted."

"And do what? Drink beers in my dead-end trailer? Please." Walter's slanted eyes rolled as he glanced down to accommodate their half-head height difference. "I couldn't let you go alone. Besides, money's at stake. Lots of it. I'd rather waste time down here with a possible fortune in our future than muddle through another day as an EMT. Pay's horrible for the work we put in."

"But you believe what we saw?" Chet's question sounded more like a test, and he clenched his free hand in case Walter gave the wrong answer.

"I—it was dark. Who knows what those things were?"

Chet's fist shook. So far, Walter was failing.

"Still"—the Chinese-American raised his flashlight so it shined on the device in his partner's hand—"anything living underground must have a reason. It's just taking forever."

"We've waited this long."

"Is the signal really coming from a cyborg?"

"After what happened in June, you doubt it's real?"

"Not that. I mean, is it coming from the right cyborg? The one Master Changeling contacted you about?"

"He guaranteed it. Said she would have no way to change such a signal. It's in her DNA, so to speak."

"Then those beasts Roy and Shirley helped out of Black Lotus…"

Chet drew the compass closer to his face, noting the 'origin' ping on the outskirts of its circular grid. "Will likely be with her, if Changeling's account holds true. Let's double-check our restraint plans. If our element of surprise fails, things could get…difficult."


	2. September 24 (6:04 PM)

**A/N:** Yeah. Figured this should be put out, too. I got a plan, honest. xD

Forgot to mention earlier. This story will be a wee bit different from the others - chapter/story wise. Instead of my titled chapters, there are dates. This means some chapters are shorter than usual, later on. It just fit better with the story's content. You'll see. :)

Thanks for the reviews, _Sciencegal_ and _Min1981_. I know the prologue had little to comment on. LOL

* * *

 **September 24  
** **6:04 P.M.**

Ambient candlelight flickered throughout Hamato Splinter's bedroom. At a traditional Kotatsu stationed in its center, the wizened rat sat on a Zabuton. His paws shifted through many worn letters from his son Leonardo. They were short extras, addresses to the Patriarch rather than the clan's body.

' _He dated one shortly before April-chan's birthday then stopped for over three months. All those since…_ '

Had shown hesitance in himself, yet also assurance in those who have surrounded him in the past few months. Details were omitted. Leonardo said it was necessary, or else the tribe he now lived with would not permit his letters to send.

' _The fact that my son respects their wishes so much speaks volumes of their trust. A long spiritual journey still lies ahead; however, I feel he has taken steps in the right direction._ '

Splinter picked up the earliest letter, scanning its scant Kanji with heavy eyes.

Sensei,

I know you told me to write, that it would be good for me, but…I have nothing to say. I feel…empty…and this is a lot of work.

Jan 16, 2012

The master's whiskers twitched. He remembered reading the letter for the first time. While its impact no longer sunk his heart, it still ached, and he reached for another letter on the Kotatsu.

Sensei,

Time passes differently here, like it's more of a concept…

I think a lot. I don't want to, so when I face things—bad things—I turn the other way. Sometimes, I even force myself asleep, despite the nightmares. It's not like I'm in control anyway. Why not give in? But…all I really want is to leave my body…

Is that normal?

Feb 15, 2012

Sighing, Splinter rested the letter atop the last. He longed now more than ever to respond. However, one condition Leonardo had established before leaving is that no one replied. The Jonin despised conversation. He only wanted a place where his thoughts could go, unfiltered, so he sent them to April with no return address.

' _There is so much I could tell him when I cannot. Upon his return, our clan will have changed._ '

And he would return, even if his letters…

Picking up a third letter, Splinter cringed at what he read.

Sensei,

I did something horrible today. Blood still stains my hands. I feel so ashamed, and angry, and confused all at the same time. I couldn't control it. The memories just filled my vision and I snapped…

I think I prefer numbness. This? It's taxing. At least I can cry here, I guess. But please, don't…don't tell my brothers.

No date was written. However, the runny ink, shaky brush strokes, and red-stained parchment hinted towards an early month—perhaps February or March.

Splinter sighed, compiling the letters until he reached several recent ones. After a long hiatus, they came more steadily and coherent, although Leonardo never once mentioned wanting a return letter.

Sensei,

I wish I could tell you everything. This tribe has such rich history and people. I know you would appreciate their culture like I do. There's this connection. I don't just mean between me and them, but with someone else in our clan as well. I can't get detailed. It would put others at risk, so…all I want to say is it's nice.

Here, I'm not a leader. I'm not a Jonin or an older brother or a mutant or a Phantom. I'm just…Leo. Nothing's expected of me. For once in so many years, I can breathe. It seems odd since the situation here isn't ideal, but I won't worry about that right now.

Someone's helping me rediscover parts about myself that I haven't thought about since I was, like, thirteen. Alone, I wouldn't want to face them. Through her, though, it feels different. Maybe because what I really want is for her to think about them…

I don't know. My nightmares come back at least once every few days. Bright side? When I wake, I can go to her. She understands.

Sept, 2012

The day was omitted. Splinter suspected Leonardo no longer knew such a thing. Fortunately, dates did not matter when one is healing. So, the master would continue to compile the letters until a red alert convinced him that his eldest son needed help. Meanwhile, he would remain patient.

' _Maybe I should see Nia-chan_ ,' thought Splinter as he tucked the papers away in a decorative box. _'Perhaps she feels better than yesterday.'_

* * *

Hamato Nia felt like hurling. The urge must've been apparent, too, because Donatello looked panicked when he approached her in his Lab.

"Another nausea spell?" he asked.

The artist nodded, and when her shoulder-length hair swayed around her chin, she grimaced. Why had it grown so little since June?

"Wha—" Don stopped himself, used trashcan in hand. "Are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" But when Nia touched her cheek, it was wet. "Shut up, Donny. I just noticed my hair again."

"Enough to make you wanna—"

"It wasn't the softest or most well-cared for, but I _loved_ it being long! So did Raph! Even if he did swallow it sometimes…"

Was she still crying? Is that why Donny seemed frozen in place?

"Okay, calm down." The purple-masked Chūnin handed over the trashcan, whose pungent scent caused Nia to choke back a heave. "We aren't here about your hair. Remember?"

"Yeah," Nia muttered, hunched on a leather chair.

"We just gotta wait on the blood tests. They should help us figure out why you've been feeling this way."

"Could it be the Anemia coming back?"

"Did you feel this nauseous when you were Anemic?"

"N—not to this extent. Maybe it's an aftereffect from what happened at Oswald. Or…" With a long sigh, Nia set the trashcan on the floor then hugged her aching belly. "September's about over."

"Yeah," said Don in a slow syllable. "Mel's birthday was just last week."

"Which she hated Mikey for bringing up. That—that has nothing to do with this."

"I know. But you were sick then, too."

"I've felt off all month. Things just got worse after Miss Flemming started ordering Halloween decorations for Warner-Frost."

The genius formed a silent 'Oh' with his mouth. Stillness then filled the Lab, broken by Nia only after she had a chance to regain her bearings,

"It's, uh, been about a year…"

"A year since you traded yourself for Raph."

"People are talking about the Hallows' Eve Demon, and I just…I…"

Panic. Simple as that. October marked a drear time in Nia's life, and the peace she had gained after Oswald had started to slip away, one dream at a time.

"Have you talked with Raph?" Donatello asked.

Nia shook her head and refused to glance up when her brother stepped forward. "Well, sort'a. After nightmares, it—it can't be avoided. But I don't tell him _everything_. H—he comforts me, which I'm thankful for. Deep down, though, his blood is boiling."

"Guy puts enough stress on himself as it is. Still, you should talk with someone. Keeping it inside could be what's making you sick."

"Maybe…"

Don sighed, which brought Nia's gaze forward. "Trauma anniversaries are hard," he said. "We understand what that's like. I mean, for three years after Mikey was taken by Bishop, he couldn't even look at a calendar."

Nia knew just what he meant; today's panic episode had stemmed from a simple word she noticed when coworkers started planning a Halloween party. Memories of it dug her fingernails into her meaty sides, despite the pain.

"July"—Don caught himself with a curt sigh—"it was hard then, too."

"None of you freaked, though. Or had nightmares…right?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

The genius smiled under Nia's furrowed brows. "Because your birthday comes right after that anniversary. Means there's something to look forward to rather than angst about."

"My birthday helped you though it?" Nia sent a skeptical look, except Don never stopped smiling.

"It helped me. Probably Raph, too. I know it made Mikey happier since he got the plan something fun. And if Leo were here…"

"How…how much longer do you think he'll stay away?"

"According to his letters?" Don sounded almost bitter. "Years. He just doesn't want to be here…"

Beep! Low and steady, Donatello's machine signaled it had finished screening Nia's blood samples. The purple-masked Chūnin held up a finger for patience as a printer lit up with life and sounds. By the time he reached it, two pages had already printed. He scanned them before it spit out more papers, but something in the information already given had tensed his Chi like a brewing storm.

The string struck the back of Nia's mind then its center. Fear. Anxiety. Confusion. What had the results determined?

"Don," Nia said.

The mutant remained silent, looking over the other papers.

"Don, I know what you're feeling. Say something."

Despite the artist's thin tone, Donatello ignored her. He rushed to his Lab computer then opened a program that looked like gibberish to Nia.

"The hCG levels," he said towards his cluttered computer. "They can't be right. This…this is crazy. Impossible. Or if anything, unlikely."

"What are you talking about?" Nia jumped off the chair. Her own anxiety mixed with Donatello's inside her chest, wrenching it. She considered toting around the trashcan, but instead neared the computer hands-free and gripped the swindle chair's backrest. "What's _wrong_ with me?"

"Nothing wrong, per say," Donny replied. Well, wasn't that cryptic?

The young woman grimaced, stomach high as her brother twisted in his seat. He opened his mouth, leaned forward. Then, a blaring alarm sounded. It startled Nia to her knees. She glanced around at the whirling red lights that seemed to come out of nowhere while Donatello leaped from his chair as if gravity didn't exist.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"Don?"

No answer. With a gulp, Nia forced herself up. She followed Donatello into the living room. It seemed like he would enter his father's room until he veered towards the primary computer he used for work.

"What's with the wailing?" Michelangelo questioned. He and Raphael abandoned the sofa in order to stand beside Nia.

"I—I don't know," the artist said, jittery. "D—did you know there were red lights installed around the Lair?"

 _Red Alert! Red Alert! Red Alert!_

"And apparently an automated response lady," added Mikey. He glanced over his shoulder towards the brick niche, where Donatello's fingers danced furiously across his keyboard. "Did you tell Mel you were cheating on her with another cyber chick? For shame!"

"Genius!" Raph kept Nia close and yelled over another wave of alerts. "What the hell's goin' on?"

The television wall clicked to life as if to answer in Don's place. They showed grainy security feeds from all integral points outside the Lair. Culverts and tunnels. All looked peaceful, save one. Two figures marched through the underground, and they moved without hesitation.

"Oi, Don," Raph said, "wasn't the purpose 'a yer upgrades ta _stop_ people before they reach our front door?"

"They're scrambling it."

"Scramblin' what?"

The feeds flickered into white noise then silenced.

"Uh," Mikey pointed at the white and gray pictures, "that's not good, is it?"

Don left his station. He made quick work of stuffing some unknown material into a duffle bag then ran into the living room. "We have to leave. _Now_."

"Donatello, my son. What has happened?"

Donny continued to add a few DVDs from their collection into his large bag, not facing his father at the kitchen table. "Sensei, go and get Master Yoshii's picture from your room. Raph, grab the family portrait. I'd hate for that to burn before Leo gets to see it."

"What's this all about, Brainiac?"

Anxiety neared overwhelming now. Nia felt paralyzed and clammy where she stood, her vision whitening as the Lair's lights flickered.

"I can't grantee anything, okay?"

Raphael backpedaled when his purple-masked brother shoved him. He braced a foot when the computer voice repeated her alerts and Don bypassed him to guide Splinter towards his bedroom.

"We could fight them, but that may be pointless," the genius added. "Something's screwing with my system. If the wrong censor's tripped, this whole place will collapse."

"Collapse?" Nia croaked.

"I designed it as a last resort in case Bishop found us. I—I don't think those are EPF soldiers, but we have to get away as soon as possible."

"Y—you set up the Lair to self-destruct?"

"Nia, _please_! If there's anything valuable you want, get it now!"

Melody. Pez. Klunk. They were still upstairs.

"I—I'll be right back!" the artist cried. She sent her husband a quick nod then headed for the stairs.

"Nia!"

"Raph"—Don's voice almost drowned under the alerts—"the painting!"

"I'll go, Raphy Boy!"

No sooner did Nia reach the stairs' top, did Michelangelo land beside her. She had little reason to stop and thus darted towards Melody and Donatello's room. She swung open the door, vaulting ahead with a numb power that made her feel like she was gliding.

"Melody!" The artist shook the unconscious cyborg. "Come on, wake up!"

"This is what she gets for not sleeping for three days," Mikey said. "Let me try."

The mutant took the lead, mainly because Nia's strength began to fade. She slid off the bed, eyes burning as her orange-masked brother slapped their sister. Melody twitched, but her following assault on Mikey fell on deaf ears when Nia noticed two small figures dart into the room.

"Pez! Klunk!" Nia cradled the critters against her chest the moment they sought refuge with her. "Don't worry; you're coming too."

"Michel…angelo?" Sleep slurred Melody's deep voice. She blinked before the alarms outside lit up her face. "What's that?"

"D—Donny-niichan told us to get out," Nia said. "The Lair, it's—"

Too late.

A fierce rattle rocked the bedroom. It threw Nia against the floor, displaced objects from shelves, and downed Michelangelo and Melody as a coppery taste filled the artist's mouth. She glanced up when a faint crack reached her ears. A dark line ran above, like an invisible marker streaked across the ceiling. Then, the stone split.


	3. September 24 (6:29 PM)

**A/N:** Haha, _D_. The first isn't technically a chapter, so I posted that after pausing to clean my room some. Anyways. Good student. *pats head* ;)

 _Sciencegal_ , I still get no notifications about your reviews. I'm honestly convinced that my account is biased against you. D:

* * *

 **September 24  
** **6: 29 P.M.**

Breathing was difficult. Almost too difficult for Hamato Donatello. Some unknown pressure weighed him down like an anchor; however, his ringing ears and vertigo were more prominent reminders of had just taken place. Groaning, he felt around with his hands.

Rubble. Some cold puddle of sorts. Dust. A flashlight. More rubble. Had the implosion been that bad?

"Sensei!" Raphael's voice was muddled, as if he spoke through water.

Donny craned his neck sideways and blinked away water droplets that sprayed from above. Flashlight in hand, Raphael knelt beside their father, whose leg was obscured by a concrete chunk. Twisted iron rods protruded from it and a rich red seeping across the cracked floor settled apprehension further inside the Chūnin's gut.

Raph shoved the concrete chunk aside then brought the mutant rat to a distressed brick column that had once supported the ceiling beside the kitchen. It ran diagonally now. Once settled, Splinter waved his son away with words that were lost to the high-pitched cry inside Don's head.

"Donny!" Raph sounded clearer now. "Ya alright?"

The genius wiped cold moisture from his face, nose scrunched when a waft of sulfur and ammonia worsened his vertigo. "I—I think."

"Then quit lyin' around an' help me!"

But wasn't he pinned? Donny's fingers ventured from his sides to his chest. He could've sworn a thick slab rested there, except his fingertips brushed smooth bone below a coating of dust and water, not rouge stone. So, he swallowed the metallic taste in his mouth then rolled to watch his brother remove several concrete pieces from a ramp.

' _Was that the upstairs hall?_ ' Don shook his head, praying it was a mistake. When his eyes reopened, Raph climbed an incline that led to higher ground, and his chest tightened. Beside it, remnants from Michelangelo's video game collection and comforter peeked out between two other columns.

"Mike? Melody?" Raphael shoved a bolder-sized concrete piece. It tipped over the ramp's edge, settling into the debris below with a dull thump. "Nia!"

"At least pause for a reply, Idiot!" Donatello cried.

"That's hard ta do when all I can hear is fuckin' ringin'!"

The genius scowled. "Join the club!"

"Will ya get off yer ass already?"

The hothead returned to shifting through rubble as Don held his tongue. He pushed himself up then dropped to a knee when the world spun. Staying grounded tempted his reason like a luring Muse. But what would sleep accomplish? He focused on the frigid water beating against his skull, so his eyes remained open. Then, he stood again.

"About time," Raph said when his brother joined him at the incline's top.

Don inhaled, his hands surveying the seven-foot-tall wall that cut him off from the Lair's other half. "Melody?"

No answer; just pitter-patters from the broken water main he had left behind.

"Mel!"

"D—D—Donny?"

"Nia!" Raph pushed aside his brother to peer though a slender break in the barrier. Darkness reigned beyond it, but it let the artist's small voice penetrate the dense stone.

"Nia," added Don. "Are any of you hurt?"

"I—I—uh—" A cough echoed. "I don't know. It's so dark."

"Call for them."

"I have been! Th—they aren't stirring and…ah!"

The genius leaned closer towards the break. "What is it?"

"Mel. I think."

"Good. Wake her. She can help."

"N—no." Nia sniffled. "Something's wrong. I—I can feel her twitching. Why's she so hot?"

Apprehension sunk further, chilling Don. "What do you mean?"

"She's breathing hard, too. Oh, God."

"Shuǐ"—Raph put his face cheek-to-cheek with Don's to speak through the break—"ya gotta keep yer cool. Freakin' out's just gunna hurt Melody more."

"I know, but…What do I do?" Another sniffle. "Ow."

"Ya okay, Ni?"

"F—fine."

"You sure?" Don knew he sounded pushy, yet ignored his brother's confused glare. "Were you hit?"

"Um…"

"Be honest."

"M—Mel needs help. And I can't find Pez or Klunk. Or Mikey."

"That's not an answer, Nia."

"But—"

Don slammed a palm against the crumbling stonework. "It's important, dammit! Where were you hit? Your pelvis?"

"What's her pelvis gotta do wit' anythin', Genius?"

The purple-masked Chūnin sent a look at Raph then stole the flashlight from the hothead's hands. He shined its beam through the crack, although scarce details were revealed in the opposing room. Nia's bloody back, at most. It reflected off Melody's robotic arms to a point. Michelangelo was nowhere in sight.

"Shit. Nia?" The light shook with Donatello. "I—I'll call LH. He can help us move debris, so…"

"Something's wrong; I can feel it," Nia said.

"I get that Mel isn't doing good, okay?"

"No, Donny. It—it's something else."

Like an aftershock? What sense did that make? Yet Donatello felt the shaky movement below his feet. He stepped back on the ramp as Raphael stole the flashlight, glancing around for an answer. He saw Splinter stand, just for a moment when the light beam twirled. The rat gimped forward, a ceiling chunk landing with a splash in a puddle near him.

"Sensei!" Don yelled.

"How are my children, Donatello?" It seemed like Splinter's cry loosened the stone pieces from their precarious perches, although Don knew otherwise.

"We can't reach them, not without help," Don answered. His head twisted back to the only current light source, squinting. "Wait…is there a new break in that room?"

"Ni? Ni! What do ya see?"

No reply came from the artist. Clicks from rocks hitting each other answered in her stead. That, and a whirl. Electric powered. A low hum. Like a hand-held drill on steroids. What confused Donny the most was how the new light source increased when the trembles moved from the room he stood in to the one beyond the blockade.

They hadn't called for help yet.

"Knock, knock!" someone called out. Male. Adult with a slight Jersey accent. Don could determine no more than that as he placed his chin on Raphael's head.

The Sai master squirmed below his sibling, stuffing an arm though the slim opening that it couldn't fit through. "Nia, run!"

Useless. A dart hit Nia in the shoulder. It kept her on her knees then brought her down, her head thumping against the concrete. Two males in black gear entered, one shorter than the other. The tallest—an Asian whose crooked smile hid his eyes atop his cheeks—tucked a gun into his pant's waist band. The barrel length spanned Don's forearm, easy, and he would bet money it was responsible for Nia's unconsciousness.

"Unbelievable," the Asian said. "To think they actually live down here. But not one of them is…well, call my Daddy a monkey's uncle."

"Glad we brought the care packages now?" The second man laughed from somewhere in Don's blind spot, but his excitement spoke volumes of his poor mental state.

"Touch her, assholes," Raph said, "an' ya'll never be able ta hold anythin' ever again!"

"There's where the other three must be." The Asian faced the fractured wall. He reached behind him then eased up. "Guess they're trapped."

"And here I was thinking they had blown the place on purpose. Looks like we were more prepared after all."

"I'll show ya prepared!" Two Shuriken flew through the crack. One bounced off the uneven sides while the other hit its mark. The Asian drew his hand back from Nia, falling on his butt with a curse.

"Walter, the gun! This beast is waking up."

Walter sent a glare Raphael's way before wiping his red-stained hand against his black outfit. Donatello willed for a rock to render the Asian unconscious; he felt helpless standing around. If only he could do more. If only his hands could reach the intruders.

"Mikey!" screamed Raph. "Ya need ta get up, Shell-for-Brains! Wake up an' protect yer sisters!"

A soft whip cut through the pattering water drops from behind. Mikey wouldn't be moving for a while.

"Don"—distress and anger lowered the hothead's tone, as fierce as his grip on his brother's arms—"ya gotta have somethin'."

"All my heavy-duty inventions are at the garage. I can't—I can't do anything from here."

"Bullshit! There's gotta be somethin'!"

"Let's move the lighter one first."

Attention broken, Donny leaned in close to the wall. Walter neared Nia again, a little hesitant this time.

"Should we even bother, Chet?" he asked. "Master Changeling never once mentioned—"

"She's with _them_ , isn't she?"

Walter focused on something in the corner, where Chet's voice originated from. He then glanced at the crack.

"Yeah," he answered with a shiver. "Freaky things. Thought I was going crazy from extra work shifts when I saw 'em through my ambulance's windshield that night."

What windshield?

"Well, you weren't. Now help me before the Jammer conks out. Don't wanna think what could happen if this cyborg chick's paralysis wears off."

"Quit your nagging. This is a lot to take in."

Walter whirled. He stepped forward, rubbing his buzz cut, then stopped. A little creature blocked his path. Between Walter's legs, Don assumed it was Klunk until he saw a hint of gray and white, not orange.

Pez stood before Nia, small hooves fidgeting across the concrete. Deep grunts and bellows unlike any Don had heard before left his open under-bite, which made them seem more fitting for an animal ten times his size.

"Dear, God, what is that?" The Asian backpedaled. It was hard to tell if surprise or the creature's bared-teeth prompted him, but Pez had the courage to advance.

"That 'a boy, Pez!" Raphael's fist pump just missed Donatello's chin. "Bite 'em in the ass!"

"Fuck, Walter, it's the size of a Pomeranian. Kick it!"

"I've kicked plenty of things in my day, but this—shit!"

Walter shouldn't have turned. The moment he did, Pez complied with Raphael's demands for the first time ever. His long teeth sunk into the man's butt as easily as biting into a peach, and Water's howl filled the room as he writhed. Again and again, he punched Pez's stub head behind him. The creature never budged.

"Shoot it, Idiot," Chet said—a disembodied voice in the genius' eyes.

"Its damn teeth has the thing pinned!"

"Oh, for the love of."

Footfalls approached Walter. Chet held something with a fine point whose silhouette riled bad memories for Donny. The man dug it into the tender flesh below Pez's head-plate armor. Few seconds passed. Slowly, Pez's mouth grew slack, and before he fell from Walter's butt, Chet snap kicked the beast into a bolder.

Pez bounced then dropped, motionless.

"Sons 'a bitches!"

"Raph!" Don pushed down his brother's arm, so he could see again.

"How's your ass?"

"Shut up, Chet. He could've paralyzed me."

Chet chuckled at the Asian who touched a dark spot that soaked his backside. "You should've kicked when you could."

Walter blanched.

"Move on, Walt. Master Changeling said these Shells will enhance our strength. I'll carry the girl and the cyborg. You take the turtle beast."

"Shells?" Raph asked near a whisper. "Ain't those the enhancement suits Mike 'n Pink got? Thought they looked a little familiar."

"Yeah," Donny answered. "They're supposed to have the only two left in existence. Marco burned the rest."

Or so the story goes.

"Here's to testing." Several steps placed Walter out of Don's field of vision. The Chūnin hated that, about as much as he hated how Chet slung Nia over his shoulder.

"Let her go!" Raph bellowed.

Chet smiled. "Nearly a year of nightmares. Now, I can finally see _what_ you are. They said I was hallucinating. Roy, especially. Yet here you are. And it's going to make me rich. Don't worry; if this deal goes well, we'll be back for you three before you starve."

Raphael roared. He beat the wall, kicked, and cursed. All in vain.

Walter bypassed Chet, his load a familiar green lump, and the shorter man picked up Melody's foot without any respect for her well-being. They left the room through an opening where a bright beam shined through. When the clanks, squeaks, and shuffling stopped, though, so did the light.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Raphael kicked ahead.

"He mentioned a rich future," Splinter added.

Ashamed at having forgotten him, Don offered a hand to steady the mutant rat on the ramp. He held their flashlight in his paws. When had that been dropped?

"Do they plan on—on selling our clan?"

"Ni was just startin' ta get over what happened last year!" Raph cried. "Like hell I'm gunna let some greedy nobody drag her back inta that darkness!"

"Same goes for Michelangelo," grumbled Splinter.

"Okay, okay." Donny shook his head, even if it did little to steadyt it. "Here's the plan. We call LH. Get out. Fire up the Battle Shell. Track Mel. At least we know they'll stay together."

"How are ya so calm, Genius?"

Did he look calm? He sure didn't feel calm and swallowed thickly so he wouldn't prove otherwise by barfing.

"Leo would be calm," Donny told Raph. "If we panic, we'll only hinder ourselves."

"They took Mel too!"

"Raph!" Adrenaline jolted through the purple-mask Chūnin, urging his fist to meet his brother's face. He ignored it. "I saw what happened."

"Ya were freakin' out earlier. Did ya forget that?" Raph's question registered like knives against Donny's brain. "An—an' ya never answered. Why _were_ ya so worried about her stomach? I—is there somethin' I should know?"

Donatello turned his head in a slow, stiff move. Raphael's bright eyes glinted within the flashlight's beam and his subsequent growl let Don know the matter wouldn't be dropped.

Guess now was as good a time as any. He'd find out soon enough…


	4. September 24 (7:07 PM)

**A/N:** Exactly, D. Exactly. Never a break for the Hamato clan...

:P

* * *

 **September 24  
** **7:07 P.M.**

Hamato Melody squirmed against something cool. Yet inside—through her bones, blood, tissue, and wires—a hot tingle left her breathless, paralyzed. It was an unfamiliar feeling and she fought it when her eyes opened, if only to determine the reason for the rhythmic thumping she felt.

Darkness reigned. Not like that could hinder a cyborg. A simple thought changed her robotic eye's filter to Night Vision, and she craned her neck from a thin mattress.

The green haze revealed the back of a transport van; Mel could recognize one easily from the times she had been escorted to precincts and hospitals in her teen years. It was gutted with closed off windows and a mesh gate on both ends—just enough resistance to keep people caged.

But Melody wasn't normal. She could rip through those gates. That is, if her limbs would move.

' _There are no restraints across my body. Why…why…?_ '

"Melody?" Michelangelo's whisper broke through the van's hum.

Mel's head twisted with effort, his wide eyes and bruised cheek not overlooked by her Night Vision.

"Yo—you're breathing differently," he added. "You're up, right?"

"Can't…move," she said. Two breathes were required for her answer, which heated her blood even more.

"I was like that for a while. Fingers are still tingly, but I can sort'a roll."

"What…happened?"

"Not sure. There were intruders. Something got scrambled. A wrong sensor was tripped. Then _boom_! No more Lair."

" _What_?"

"Wanna know the worst part? Donny rigged it up that way. Was supposed to be a last resort in case Bishop found us…"

"Did he?"

Mikey glanced behind him, at another gurney where Nia slept. "No. These guys aren't EPF."

Mel swallowed then cringed at the pain it brought down her tight throat. "You…sure?"

"There are some uniforms in the corner. My pillow, I guess. Can't see well in this stupid van, but they checked on us once. Didn't notice I was faking, so before they shut the cab window, I read their patches."

"And that's"—the cyborg hissed, her arms still glued at her sides—"important?"

"They said they belonged to the Metuchen First Aid Squad…"

New Jersey. Sudden memories flooded Melody, washing away all sense of time and place. She stood in a round room with no doors or windows. Naked. They enclosed on her, their walls splattered by coagulated blood and many faces. Many horrible, contorted faces. They screamed in voices that cut like dull scalpels, and one above all stopped her heart.

Leonardo.

"Melody!"

Whisked away from her revere, Mel gasped for the air, no matter how musky it was. She fought a whimper, reminding herself that the mutant turtle beside her was not the one she had left in the hands of madmen.

No, that wouldn't happen again.

"Mel!" Mikey's three fingers landed on the forearm that felt like stone to Melody. "Stop. You're gunna bust a circuit or something."

"It won't happen…again."

"Trust me; I get that it's scary. The three of us have already been abducted at least once and—"

"I am not scared for myself."

The Nunchaku master reeled, yet smiled. "I have a crazy idea. Can you call Don? Or Sven?"

"Sven won't answer," Melody muttered through parched lips.

"Still too soon?"

"Until…until we are ready, we will not open that channel." The cyborg cringed when a Nubian's sly smile entered her mind, and her fingers curled with her deep sigh. "I will try Donatello's cell."

Michelangelo knew better than to speak any further, so he slumped at the wheels of Nia's locked gurney. He rubbed the artist's limp hand while Melody imagined her husband's cell number, much like she would if contacting Sven. With the carrot-top, however, the call was more instinctual. For several long moments, she feared the connection had failed.

' _He—hello?_ ' Donatello's strained voice echoed throughout Melody's mind like a ghost. The invasion was far from off-putting; Sven spoke the same way when their channel was open.

' _Donatello_ ,' she thought. ' _It worked_.'

' _Are you…calling me without a phone? Is that possible?'_

' _Evidently. Now listen: I have no idea how long I can keep focused and if I lose you, I may not have the energy for another try._ '

' _Got it. We just reached the Battle Shell. I—I've already started to track you. It looks like you're moving._ '

' _We're in a transport van._ '

' _I see. And, uh, how are you doing?_ '

' _My body feels as if an elephant is sitting on it. Michelangelo is tingly. Otherwise, he's normal. He can talk better than me._ '

' _Isn't that always the case?_ ' Don chuckled, maybe in relief, but a static through the line corrupted whatever he said next.

' _What'd you say, Damn Mechanic?_ '

' _I asked about Nia._ '

' _She's unconscious._ '

' _Okay. But is she injured?_ '

' _Like I can tell from here! My body's too stiff. The last thing I remember is Michelangelo yelling. Maybe it should be_ you _telling_ me _what happened at the Lair._ '

' _I'm sorry, Mel. I just…_ ' The genius sighed. ' _It's important. Before everything collapsed, I was running tests on Nia._ '

' _Alone?_ '

' _Don't pout._ '

Feh. She wasn't pouting.

' _You've been studying hard for your license. You needed sleep._ '

' _Uh-huh. I take it the results were telling?_ '

' _Yeah._ _They…they showed high traces of hCG.'_

Melody gasped—an action she could neither control nor hide. Her Night Vision fell on the curled-up artist, whose dark lips parted with shallow pants. ' _Nia is pregnant?_ '

' _That's what the tests say. So—_ ' Don sucked in a noisy breath. ' _I know you're strong. You and Mike both. You can handle a lot. Nia…'_

' _She has a head injury, just above her brow. Her abdomen seems fine._ '

' _Thank God. Mel, we-re—_ '

Static cut off Donatello. Melody tried to recall the connection, only the white noise grew louder. Feedback. Who knew it could be so maddening?

Now the only question that remained was this: why did it start?

* * *

Chet signaled his van's blinker then steered towards the left lane inside Lincoln Tunnel. "Damn New York drivers," he said, gripping the leather-covered wheel.

He contemplated hitting the horn—just so the Subaru who cut in front of him knew his displeasure's extent. But that hadn't made a different the last five times. Why would it now?

"Just don't kill us," Water said. He lay, slanted, on the passenger side of the bench seat to keep pressure off his bandaged ass. Although, he looked more like a bored kid counting the seconds until they saw the night sky again.

The white man snorted.

"It ain't funny, Asshole."

"It's a little funny."

"You get bit by a pig-me-thing with razors for teeth and you'll know how funny it is. There better be extra for this."

"Should be, considering." Chet narrowed his eyes at the expansive sea of red tail tights across the dim-lit tunnel and raised a fist towards the windshield. "Come on! We're basically in Weehawken already!"

"Leave me to my small towns," added Walter.

"Geez…What're you fiddling with?"

"Another device Master Changeling mailed. Like the Tracker, drilling gear, Shells, and Jammer. Don't you remember?"

"Yeah. But it's been unimportant so far."

"It was acting weird." Walter hit the remote-like device, pointed ears twitching as he studied its digital screen.

' _Ain't the only thing_ ,' thought Chet.

"Look." The Chinese-American shoved the remote in his friend's face, which seemed permissible since traffic was stale.

"It says it's activated," Chet read. "Activated to do what?"

"Beats me. It said a forbidden single was being relayed and asked if I wanted to block it."

"What's that mean?"

"Dunno. Maybe it has something to do with cyber-chick?"

The two exchanged glances.

"Check the back, Walt."

Walter did as told—this time with no complaints. He slid the back window open and Chet regarded the darkness beyond the mesh barrier through his rearview mirror.

"Everybody alive back there?"

Stillness. Walter's reflection shrugged. He lifted a hand to close the window, but a sudden bang made him jump. He hit the dash with a curse, facing a horrid snarl from behind the mesh. Yes, that seemed more like it. More like the cage beasts they were then the docile things he and Walter had pushed into the van not half an hour ago.

"Jesus!" Walter panted. "Damn well gave me a heart attack."

Chet laughed. "He can't reach you. So long as the Jammer is on, neither can the cyborg. Why so tense?"

"They're monsters," Walter choked out. A bead of sweat down his temple was a testament to his true concern. Maybe he hadn't been the best partner choice after all. However, he had been the only one with a willing ear.

"Just shut the window if it freaks you out that bad."

"You can't say you aren't freaked!"

"Of course I am." Chet frowned when the trapped animal assaulted the mesh again.

"Then how are you so calm?"

Months of practice. Just off the top of his head, the brunette could remember over a dozen times where he imagined looking the turtle creatures in the eyes. To see the ferocity behind them that he imagined. Too see how strong they assumed they were. They were unnatural, a cry against nature. Chet had spent countless weeks seeking to balance that nature.

A bribe only sweetened the deal.

' _Changeling better pull through. He originally contacted me through my blog about the cyborg. But he also said other test subjects could be negotiated. I wonder… how much can I get for these three?_ '

"You have no idea what kind'a things I wanna call ya dudes!"

It came as no surprise that the turtle creature could talk; the others could. What tore Chet's gaze off the road was the surfer-esque chime in his speech pattern.

"I'm just so frickin'—gah!" He banged the mesh a third time.

"Michelangelo!" Someone cried in the back. They sounded deep, although Chet knew the other captives were both female.

"I can vent, Mel. These guys have no idea who they're screwing with!"

"I didn't tell you so you could go ballistic, Idiot!"

"I'm not ballistic!"

"You sound like Raphael!"

"Well, _someone_ has to be the protector!" The creature—Michelangelo, was is?—snorted. His head met the mesh wall, which seemed invisible when he glared. His bright blue eyes cut through it so sharply that Chet shivered.

"Do we gotta tranq you again?" asked Walter. He flinched while resituating himself on the bench seat and avoided the open window.

"Why not come back here and find out?"

"Awfully mouthy for someone in your position."

"Well," it seemed like the beast tried hard to remain casual, "I just got some life-altering news. So if you think you're going to take that new reality away from my clan, you're _dead_ wrong."

Dead—Michelangelo hissed the word. But Chet wouldn't let it affect him. He was safe in his cab, his only issue being the congested traffic beneath the Hudson River.

"Wait until we meet Master Changeling," the brunette said when the van finally broke fifty-miles-per-hour. "Then we'll see who's dead."

"You're going to sell us for pocket change?"

"Think a little bigger. What we're being offered with ensure we'll never have to work another day in our lives."

"Sounds lazy."

"It's a win-win. We get money. He gets his rewards. And the world is that much safer."

"Safer?"

"You're a freak," Chet said in a tone plague by lingering fear. "The EPF has it right; Earth belongs to humans. Which none of you are."

"My sisters are human."

"Sisters? Not likely…"

"Che. Mel, we're moving faster. Have I stalled long enough?"

Walter caught Chet's gaze. They glanced at the window then down at the Jammer box on the center seat between them. Its red light no longer flashed. When had it been turned off?

"Senbon," Michelangelo told them.

Then, a sudden force tipped the van on two wheels.

* * *

 **A/N:** Least Mel and Mike can still hold their own. Sorta. :D


	5. September 24 (7:32 PM)

**A/N:** Big storm coming up. Hope I keep power and signal to post throughout the weekend. D:

 _Sciencegal_ , you already know how I felt writing that part. ;)

 _Zathura_ , glad you agree with the pregnancy. I've been aching to get to this part in their lives for years now. Like, literally. ROFL. No comment on the kid.

 _D_ , not every one can handle the truth.

* * *

 **September 24  
** **7:32 P.M.**

Hugh Reese sat awkwardly in the Battle Shell. Not because it felt cramped; the group was down two ninja turtles, and with Donatello and Sophia upfront, that left only Raphael in the back as company. No, he just wasn't used to it. He'd been a passenger once before, in June, and its numerous buttons, levers, lights, and compartments still astounded him.

"How do you guys keep focused in this thing?" asked Hugh, gaze roaming. His eyes glossed over what looked like a tucked away cannon mounted on the ceiling then landed on Raphael. The mutant stared at the walkway between the jumper seats like a zombie. "Apparently, you don't."

The casually-dressed detective waved a hand before his friend's face. Oh, wait. Hugh laughed. That hand no longer existed.

' _Damn phantom sensations._ '

He lowered his stub arm, saying, "Hey, Raph, your fly's down."

A scoff broke through Raph's wide mouth. "I don't wear pants, Slinky."

"Maybe you should. What if"—the detective crossed his legs—"something happens?"

"I'm semi-shielded," the Sai master replied. Hugh didn't want to know any details.

"So, you gunna hold a conversation or what? Sophia and Don are busy. Figured I could at least get some information from you."

"What more is there ta know? A glitch blew our home ta shit. Melody, Mike, an' Nia were taken. The oddahs are at April's. An' when we catch up ta them assholes, I'm gunna cut off their fuckin' fingers!" Raph gripped his twin Sais so tightly that their prongs shook against one another, just another noise added to the Battle Shell's clunky song.

"We could talk about what Donny said. About Nia."

The shakes ceased.

"That…that's…" Hugh held his breath then let it out in one loud motion. "That's crazy shit. Scientists would call it improbable. I would, too. If I didn't know Nia was half alien. Or met you."

Raphael remained stiff, bright eyes lost on his Sais, so Hugh added,

"Don thinks the Mutagen that changed you left adaptive—I don't know what he called it. He mumbled something about evolved properties, cells seeking to procreate. Or some weird crap. What do you think?"

The mutant didn't answer. He didn't even breathe.

"Dude." Hugh slapped his knees. "Whatever permitted this to happen, it's a miracle. That baby…is a miracle. Like, legit."

"I—I…" Raph grew silent from choking on his words and ducked his head further.

"It's a lot to digest," Hugh said. "Trust me. Marina's pregnancy wasn't revealed on the best terms, either. And I had to come to grips with it while strapped into a torture chair. Still, I didn't let shock consume me. If it had, I would've been dead. I mean"—he raised his arms when the ninja glared upwards—"you guys were in motion. But there was no guarantee. In my eyes, I knew what needed to be done, what I wanted, and what I would sacrifice for it."

"Yer hand."

Hugh messaged his wrapped stub. "Between this or my son? It was a no-brainer."

"Ya never wanted kids," said Raph, hoarse. "Ain't that why Mia 'n ya split?"

"It was."

"How'd yer mind change?"

Leaning back, Hugh rested his sneaker on his thigh, glancing towards the front cab where Sophia ranted in Italian. "It happened. At this point in my life, I never expected fatherhood, so I focused on work. Then when Bishop told me and it sank in? My only fears were losing him and him growing up to hate me."

"I—I dun't think yer son's gunna hate ya, Hugh."

The detective met the mutant's strained smirk. "He's due in two months. Still scares the hell outta me."

"Know the feelin'."

"But"—slowly, Hugh regained Raph's attention—"we're men. Call me old-fashioned. I still say we should protect them, no matter how scared we are. So you gotta be focused. For Nia and your baby…"

"Sophia, the sidewalk is _not_ a road!" Donatello screamed. His high voice offset a jerk that threatened to throw Hugh into the isle and he steadied himself as he watched distressed pedestrians through the windshield.

"Vaffanculo,tartaruga di merda!" Sophia countered, swerving to avoid a lamppost. When had she jumped in the driver's seat?

"Ouch, Donny," said Hugh. "That sounded pretty harsh."

"I have a vague idea of what she said. Don't like it. Look out! Look out!"

"I see it, Genio!" With a huff, the blonde steered the Battle Shell back onto level asphalt then shifted into a higher gear.

"The idea is _not_ to draw attention!" Don added.

The van hung a sharp left as Sophia turned down another road—on the wrong side. "Why? You have enough toys in here to stop an army of cops."

"I'm personally offended by that statement," Hugh told the blonde, hand raised.

"Stuff it, Riccio!" The Battle Shell revved with Sophia's rage. "Laws be damned, Donatello. These stronzi have Figo. I'll cut every corner I can until I reach him."

* * *

"Damn," Chet said. He whistled at the outward dents along his white van's side. They were impressive, sure, yet no longer startled him now that his captives were back under control.

"We better have some good explanation when we get this thing fixed," Walter added. "Geez. So weak and they still almost tipped us."

"They're taken care of."

"For how long?"

Chet averted his eyes from a vacant building to the short tree line opposing it. He'd been lucky when exiting Lincoln Tunnel and found a turnoff from Willow Avenue that connected with Hackensack Plank Road. At least, that's what the GPS said. Heavy traffic passed the area on both sides, but the overgrown patch of gravel and dead grass hardly held an interested for those not experiencing…technical difficulties.

' _Moon's rising_ ,' the man thought, eyeing the white sliver above the distant harbor. ' _We probably lost a good ten minutes fighting to stay upright. The blows were hard to counter…_ '

However, he had won the battle.

"Earth to Chet! Hello?"

Chet faced the taller brunette. "What, Walter?"

"I can't pick this chick up alone."

"Then why'd you dress down?"

"That little monster damaged my Shell."

"It still functions."

The Asian-American flashed a look then regarded the cyborg.

She lay in the gravel, gasping for control against the dusty ground. Whatever adrenaline or blind fortune that had fueled her ran out after she threatened to total the van. Tranquilizers and a Jammer set matters straight. Yet somehow she and the turtle beast had enough lingering energy to vault from the back when Walter opened it.

"Maybe checking on them was a bad idea," Walter said.

"Doctor Changeling wants unharmed specimens," Chet countered.

"Hey; they collapsed their own home."

"Which they left relatively unscathed. Let's not add to that."

"They're the ones who started this!"

"E—excuse me?" Michelangelo asked. His head rolled against the van's rear tire with a scowl on his bruised, green face. "Yo—you started this. Us? We were just…getting ready for a family movie."

"I hate it talking," Walter whispered Chet's way. "Creeps me out."

"All of them are creepy. Save for..."

Chet's gaze found the van's spread back doors. The dark-haired girl had fallen off her low-set gurney in the madness. She never stirred on the rubber mat below it, not even when the brunette approached. His fingers brushed away hair from her pale face, tracing the contours of her facial features down to an intense scar on her collarbone.

She was kind've cute, and he wondered what connected her to the other captives.

"Get your hands"—Michelangelo shifted beside the door—"off her."

"Or else what? We could hit you with another dart. I'd rather not, though. Too much sedative could end in a coma and we could only steal so much."

"Kidnappers and thieves." A scoff led to a cough, both of which were weak actions. "That's so wrong. You're EMTs."

"How would you—? Walter, I told you to leave our uniforms at your house."

"Cindy was there. I—I couldn't go in. Besides, we never expected them to wake up, let alone talk. Or read."

"What _did_ you expect?" Michelangelo snapped.

Chet rounded the door to squat before the beast. "Just what I see here," he said quietly. "Monsters."

"Monster is a relative term, Dude. And you"—the green thing cringed—"you're supposed to help people. Like those other EMTs did for us."

"People, maybe," Walter interjected. He dragged the cyborg by her arms, looking up from the wake her body made in the gravel. "But you lot aren't people. Frankly? I'd rather forget you exist. And that Roy and the others lied."

Chet sent his friend a lop-sided smile. "Soon, Walt. We'll be drowning in booze that can make us forget anything. Then, we can punch that bastard."

"Sounds good," Walter said. He honored the high-five Chet offered then helped him toss the girl back onto her gurney. "Where are we meeting Changeling again?"

"Half an hour south. Don't worry; I got things handled."

"You think he'll actually show?"

Brows lowered, Chet grabbed the other arm of the cyborg Walter lifted, his tone thin, "He'd better. And if he doesn't, we'll find another buyer. I'm sure there are plenty of good-willed scientists who would jump on the chance for species like these."


	6. September 24 (8:10 PM)

**A/N:** Got a wee bit longer until the beginning is wrapped up. ;)

* * *

 **September 24  
** **8:10 PM**

Garbled sounds pulsed through Hamato Michelangelo's skull. Hums. Light chatter. Car horns. It made concentration hard, but he had to find his bearings. For Nia and Melody, he had to. So he blinked the world into focus and ignored how cotton-like his mouth felt.

He sat beneath a cluster of overpasses, propped against a van with a perfect view of Manhattan's skyline beyond a large, empty lot. It was mostly dark, traffic blared overhead, and the closest light source flickered through the vehicle's cab windows. Shards of glass poked at the soles of Mike's feet when he shifted his legs in the gravel, except he had no fear of cutting himself because his moves were too lethargic.

"Mel," he whispered.

The cyborg beside him remained still, save a subtle twitch in her limbs.

' _Stupid switchbox-thing,_ ' he thought. ' _But is she not responding thanks to that or…_ '

His gaze traveled to the figure on his other side. Nia. The poor artist could hardly move. Wrists and ankles bound, she curled into a ball on the ground and sniffed into her knees. The position exposed her beaten, raw back through her torn nightgown.

"Nia," Mikey called. "Do—do you know where Doofus One and Two are? Did they leave?"

"This isn't happening," Nia whispered. "Not again."

"Psst, Ni."

"I can't. I—I can't stand any more red."

Yup; her IgRs were unbalanced. They heated Mikey's blood and her shakes left him lightheaded.

"You aren't going anywhere, Nia. Have some faith in your clan."

"It's not that. I—I—oh." She curled up tighter, sniffling more.

"Okay. Let's put it this way. I—I love you. I do. But"—the mutant cringed—"I'm seeing spots and I doubt this stress is good for your baby."

Nia froze, from head to tights. The prickling air eased just enough to maintain an edge as she uncurled. She hesitated then glanced up at her brother through wide eyes and dust.

"Wh—what'd you just say?" she whispered.

"This is probably the worst way to find out. Mel talked with Don through some mind call and—"

"Did you…?" Nia wiggled so she could face Mikey easier. "Ba—baby?"

"Don confirmed it. Those were the test results. You're"—the Chūnin smiled—"you're pregnant, Sis."

Nia gawked. What more could he expect at such a time? The flickering light escalated into a pop when her head dropped and she rolled onto her side with a groan.

"Ni, listen," Mikey said when her hair fell into her face. "I won't let anything happen to you. Or my niece or nephew. Or Mel. But things will be easier if you stay calm. Can you stay calm for me?"

"I—I—I'm trying, Mikey," Nia replied with a sob. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Your hormones are probably all over the place…"

"That light's new, Man," Chet spat. Shuffling sounded on the van's other side, shoes digging through gravel. "Dunno what the hell's up."

"Whatever," Walter countered. "Master Changeling's on his way. Let's check the cargo."

The men rounded the van too quickly for Michelangelo's tastes. He glared at his captors, Chet Black and Walter Fowler. Neither brunette looked very tall; Walter didn't even reach Mikey's height while Chet must've been shorter than Raphael. Yet they stood proud against the dull glow from lampposts along the bypasses above, dressed in…

"Ho—how'd two punks like you end up with Shells?" Mikey asked.

Chet shared a look with his partner. "How do you know what a Shell is?"

The mutant ignored their glares. "Did your boss give those too you? A present for kidnapping American citizens?"

"You lived under a city," Chet snapped. "You aren't citizens. I don't even know _what_ you are."

"Heroes," Mikey all but hissed. "Like you swore to be the day you became an EMT."

"A paycheck is a paycheck," Walter interjected. Unlike Chet, he stood at a distance, disgust in his gaze.

"And it's stressful like you wouldn't believe."

Mike sent Chet a dry stare. "Do tell."

"Shut it up, Chet." Back arched, Walter rubbed his hands. "It creeps me out when it does that."

"Big baby. What can he do?"

If only they knew. Michelangelo rolled his eyes when Chet snorted then narrowed them when the short brunette noticed Nia. The man knelt beside her, reaching downwards. No sooner did his gloves brush her skin did she kick forward.

"No!" she cried.

"Stop that!" Chet spat.

He reached for her again, so she kicked harder, pushing his leg outwards so fast that he lost balance. His chin dug into the gravel, his teeth snapping as she retreated beneath the van. It was pitiful cover. But Mikey understood her need to act and willed the second round of sedatives to metabolize from his system.

"We even sure she's worth the effort?" Walter asked. "She isn't a cyborg or mutant. She's just…"

"A cute extra," Chet finished.

He caught Nia's ankle then pulled her out from below the van. Mikey growled at how she whimpered, how the gravel cut into her raw skin from the Shell's extra strength. Chet pinned the young woman down by pressing a forearm over her throat, his knees against her thighs. Then, he flashed a red-tooth smile that heated the mutant's veins.

"Pretty eyes," Chet said. Nia flinched when his fingers ran down her blood-stained cheek. "Are they natural?"

Sedatives be damned!

Michelangelo fought the heaviness behind his eyes and pulled his legs up, even if they felt like thick noodles. He sprung his body at Chet with a roar, and they met the ground, Mikey on top. Chet countered the mutant's assault with a punch. It rolled him, but lacked the power Sophia showed while sparring.

Good; he had a Shell and no idea how to use it.

"Walter!"

Cue Turtle Luck.

Mike glared, craning his neck to see the second man. He never did. Before he sat up, a shock wracked his body. It contracted his muscles with a sizzling sound until he collapsed onto the gravel, tingling.

' _Great, they got a Taser too…how…lucky…_ '

Everything darkened as Nia's and Melody's forms grew smaller. He wanted to stay, to protect them, but the blackness called. And it overwhelmed him.

* * *

' _Mike better be wit' them_ ,' Hamato Raphael thought.

It was the only hope that kept him sane, so he held onto it, to prevent himself from wondering what his wife was enduring in his absence.

' _I should'a been there for her. I should'a—should'a punched through the wall an'…_ '

He sighed. Even in his mind, that sounded ridiculous. He could never accomplish such a thing, not without robotic gauntlets or Mikey's Shell.

' _We couldn't find that, but we did recover Don's Taser Glove._ '

Maybe it could prove useful?

"Raph, are you paying attention?"

Meeting Donatello's hard stare, Raph snorted. "'Course."

"Which is why you're going the wrong way around the fence?"

The hothead paused then glanced forward. He saw an overgrown chain-link fence, which stretched towards the Hudson and New York skyline with no end in sight.

"Focus, Raph, remember?" Hugh asked.

The hothead growled. "Why ain't we goin' over it, anyway?"

"Because"—Don's voice grew thin—"we're using an old maintenance shed as cover. That works better when we don't walk in front of it."

Sheesh. Did he have to emphasis his last few words?

Blanching, Raphael followed his brother, Hugh, and Sophia. The right way. They traveled deeper below two overpasses and what the hothead swore was an unused monorail from a forgotten project. Growing shadows became allies as the noise cover increased—a somewhat welcome change when the group spotted the stone building in question. They approached it on silent feet.

All save Hugh, that is.

"What?" the detective asked when the others glanced his way.

"We need to teach you some tricks, Riccio," Sophia said.

"It's not exactly silent out here."

"Hugh"—Don's Bō staff halted the man—"wait here with your gun."

"You too, Don?"

"It's not that. You should hold your ground at this angle, as extra cover. If we need help, the surprise bullets will come in handy."

"But—"

"Can you vault to the top of that maintenance shed?"

Hugh glanced at the ten-foot-tall structure then glared. "Fine," he grumbled. And after waving his gun, he turned towards the fence.

"Ya sure this is where Mel's signal's comin' from?" Raph asked Donny. He sent the genius a look then headed for the building not far away.

Voices answered instead: three males, whose baselines carried above the rumbled of an idle Diesel engine. By the time the trio stationed their bodies along the shed's flat roof, Raph heard them shouting across the gravel lot and his Sais longed for action.

"Assess first," Don whispered with an arm across the hothead's plastron.

"Those are the guys," Raph hissed.

"I know."

"Mel 'n Mike are right _there_. In the headlights."

"I _know_!" Donny pushed harder, which made his brother realize how far he leaned over the shed's ledge. "They're center stage. Both guys are still wearing Shells and who knows what tricks the third guy has up his sleeves. For all we know, he could shoot everyone the moment we make ourselves known."

"Please." Sophia growled. "I'd like to see nanetto there wield his Shell better than me."

"Brute force won't help," Don told her. "Wait for the right moment. Then we strike."

Raphael hated the idea; even it could work, considering how their argument consumed the men.

"That wasn't our deal!" the short brunette cried. He aligned himself behind Melody. Probably because he wore an enhancement suit and thus assumed he could control her if she woke.

"You will take what is offered," the unknown man said.

Blinding rays from a truck's high-beams left a halo effect around his super-tall form. He looked stretched against the wafting exhaust, disproportionate, and he sported a mask. It resembled the one Melody wore while working for Black Lotus. Only, the African-like design was monochromatic with jagged shark teeth in place of the small, open mouth.

"Master Changeling was supposed to meet us," the Asian-American added inside Shark Guy's long shadow. "Why aren't we talking with him?"

"Master Changeling is busy, Mister Fowler," Shark Guy said, shrugging. "Otherwise, he would be here. He's quite excited about this pick up."

The shortest man shifted. "Why the price change then?"

"There was never a set price, Mister Black. Master said he would negotiate if you could retrieve her."

"Well, we did. And then some. We deserve compensation!"

"The mutant is worth something. The third…"

"Oh, come on!" Black stormed to his shut-off van then reached inside the open back. He pulled Nia out by her hair. She fell into the gravel, clearly sluggish, and the plea that left her nearly cost the man a Sai in his throat.

"Not yet, Raph," whispered Don, deep. However, he handed over the Taser Glove from his duffle bag. At least he understood the hothead's need to vent when the time did come…

"Look at this," Black said as he forced Nia to join Melody's and Michelangelo's unconscious forms. "He needs healthy subjects, right? That's what he mentioned in his e-mails. She's healthy. Pretty enough, too. I'm sure he could find _something_ to do with her."

Raph's three fingers curled inside the glove, his limbs shaking with such fury he felt them burn.

Nia said something that was lost the truck's rumble. Her husband only knew she had spoken because the others looked at her.

"You think?" Black asked.

Nia nodded then stumbled between her siblings.

"Guess the same could be said for you. Otherwise, you'd be elsewhere."

The artist replied while glancing up at Black. God, must she be so soft spoken?

"Don't talk down to me," Black snarled. "You have no idea how hard I've worked. And for what? To survive? I'm sick of it. All of it! So if I can fix my situation and help the world, what better deal is there?"

"This isn't helping!" Nia screamed. She shifted on her bound feet then fell to her knees. "Ho—how could you think that?"

"Argue later," Shark Guy interjected. He sounded bored. "I'll take the mutant and cyborg. You do…whatever with the girl. She's noisy."

"No!" Nia found the strength to stand when the masked-figure stepped forward. Her hands were tied behind her, but she readied herself before Mel and Mikey. "They've been through enough!"

"Stop talking!" Black cried.

Frustration fueled his arm; it swung at Nia, burying a fist into her ribs. She hunched as the man cursed then gagged when he kneed her stomach.

The fool should've stopped while he was ahead. Before his wife met the ground, Raphael leaped off his perch. Both his Sai and glove were charged.


	7. September 24 (8:22 PM)

**September 24  
** **8:22 P.M.**

Three baddies with the element of surprise on their side? Sounded like good odds to Sophia Moretti. Although, Donatello seemed to disagree. He cursed when Raphael left the maintenance shed. But how could they wait any longer?

Their family needed help.

Sophia trailed Raphael up until they reached Mister Black. The dumb man lingered beside Nia—a foolish choice. Raph captured the fingers he jabbed into the artist, pushed them backwards until they cracked, and then slipped an arm around the brunette's throat. Wordless, he slammed the charged Taser Glove against Black's back with a force that arched him.

The strangle cries created a prime distraction, so Sophia set her sights on the shark-masked guy who thought he could sneak Michelangelo away. Her left hand twirled her Star Staff, lengthening it with practiced ease. It whirled and cut through the drifting exhaust seen only in the headlights' beams. She poised its butt at Shark Guy's throat to keep him frozen with a hand on Mikey's ankle.

It was a long, long way up.

"Touch my boyfriend and die," she said.

"Boyfriend?" Shark Guy leaned sideways a little. "I don't see the attraction."

The blonde snorted. "Guess that's why you aren't dating him."

"You seem like a nice human. I'm sure you could find another mate. Boyfriend. Whatever."

"Not like this one I can't."

Gaze narrowed, Sophia swung her staff so it hit Shark Guy at what should be his ear. He hardly stepped aside, so she hit him again, harder. But it felt like hitting stone, and he laughed as she stumbled back.

Alright. He wanted to play hard?

So be it.

Soph touched the snug belt around her petite hips and released her Shell suit. It covered her from head to toe in a micro-network of machines below Kevlar-based plating, which accentuated her muscle structure. The new heat nipped at her nerves, but she knew the trade off for enhanced strength.

"That is an interesting piece of technology," Shark Guy said. "Almost a shame I don't need it."

"Uh-huh." Sophia spun her staff with a speed that made it invisible. "Wanna see if you can stand now?"

She swung it. It hit. And he stepped aside.

Smirking, the blonde brought the staff across Shark Guy's face. He caught it at both ends. Sophia tried to snap kick him away. Only, her leg fell short of his torso.

He chuckled at her Italian curse then leaned forward with surprising weight. It collapsed her backwards, at an angle only gymnasts could handle, and required much strength to keep his mask from meeting her face.

"You smell horrible," she said through her struggle.

Shark Guy chuckled. "Likewise."

He shoved the Star Staff against Sophia's throat then jumped up to kick her like a soccer ball. Air left her with each roll across the gravel. She almost choked on upturned dust. When she stopped, she noticed a familiar metal arm at her nose.

Of all the times for their cyborg to take a nap.

"No, no, no! I—I didn't mean it!"

Soph pushed herself onto her knees to watch Mister Fowler. At some point, he had jumped into his van, despite his Shell protection. But Donatello held the door open. He wore a scary expression beneath his purple mask that the heroine had never seen before.

It made Fowler shudder when the genius plucked him from the driver's seat. His blubbered into the ground, muffled pleads. It was all for naught; Don soon rendered him unconscious with his Bō staff.

At least one battle went well.

Raphael had separated from Black. The Taser Glove lay in the gravel, smoking, and the hothead cradled the arm that had donned it. Donny must've ignored a technical malfunction with the insulation. Maybe he had the wrong gram amount…

She'd have to ask if she could help fix it later.

"Th—this isn't happening," Black said. "This must be another nightmare. Everything was going well enough."

He backed away from the headlight's brightest area, wide-eyed and panting. Nia gasped in his chokehold, whimpered as her bound feet dragged across the lot. It looked painful, but the jerk held strong in spite of his broken fingers.

Sophia knew the stance. Even without a Shell, he could snap the artist's neck at a moment's notice.

And no amount of IgRs could heal her after that.

"We had everything planned," Black continued. "The Jammer kept the cyborg still. The creature was a bonus. And I was sure he would take _this_ too."

" _That_ is my wife," Raphael spat. No longer stunned, he stood with his Sais ready. "An' she's comin' wit' me."

"You can't be real and free!" the brunette bellowed. "You're monsters! Freaks! What worse can there be?"

"You'd be surprised, Mister Black," Donatello added in a deep voice. "There are things lower than us, things worthy of blind fear. But when you take one of our own, you become an enemy. So in the end, you should really just be worrying about yourself."

' _Ooh_ ,' Soph thought. ' _I need to see badass Don more often. He's fun._ '

Black shook his head then tightened his grip on Nia. "No! No! I _can't_ know you're real anymore. I need you behind bars. You need _caged_! Caught! And I need money. Money for the booze to forget…"

"Ya can forget everything once ya give back my wife," Raph replied.

Black glanced up. His manic gaze said it all: no deal.

Sophia moved in slow motion. She watched Black poise his hands at each side of Nia's head. His muscles tensed. His eyes widened. He sucked in a breath.

Then, something whizzed through the silence. A bullet. It dug into Black, a red mar on his glistening temple.

Time sped again, as if the sheer force of the shot slammed the captor against the gravel lot. Nia scrambled away from him, trembling. Sophia had no doubt Raphael would aid her. So, she twisted around to where the bullet had come from.

Hugh stood with his handgun poised then faced the revving truck. When Soph followed suit, she found a vacant area and cursed when the detective fired several rounds into Shark Guy's vehicle. They deflected.

"Someone wanna stop that thing?" Hugh called out.

"On it!"

"Wait, Sophia!" Donatello yelled from behind. It pained the blonde, but she listened. "I'll take the van. Keep him in this lot. You have the Shell. Focus on getting Mike and Mel out."

Sounded like a fair plan, so Soph nodded. She dashed towards the truck as it picked up speed, calling on her suit's strength to propel her forward. Her goal was larger than anticipated. Big Rig sized.

It didn't deter her. She pushed off the ground, clung onto the Rig's backend, and begun punching without question.

* * *

Donatello frowned at the tight fit between the van's steering wheel and raised bench seat. It reminded him how inconvenient standard measurements were to his kind, but he ignored the cramped feeling. He changed gears from park to drive, not bothering with the door or a seatbelt, and eased the gas pedal as he turned the van around.

Raphael, Nia, and Hugh stood by the shed, which left Don's mind free to concentrate on finding stable ground for takeoff. When he found it, he pressed the gas pedal harder. Gravel pieces sprayed from the spinning tires against the undercarriage with sharp clanks. The rear fishtailed. Then, the vehicle roared forward.

Shark Guy's Big Rig was a good distance ahead. Donatello could see Sophia's petite form through the hazy lighting. She beat its back doors with furious fists to little avail. Whatever reinforced steel they had been made from, it hindered her task, so the mutant sped up.

Caution warned him against hitting forty MPH on loose rock. However, caution was rendered moot when he thought about the Big Rig's cargo. His brother and wife were in there, and with a tensed jaw, he turned the steering wheel.

The van's cab met the Big Rig's side with a force that almost jerked Don through the open door. He kept tense around the wheel, though, as he repeated the action. The van shuddered when the gravel below it shifted. Prepared to compensate, Don reached for the shifter. Then, he remembered the van had an automatic transmission.

' _I feel too free in an automatic,_ ' the mutant thought.

Boom!

Donatello ducked his head. A spray of glass scraped across his face, leftovers from the busted passenger window that let in cool air. The van swerved from his startled response, but he recovered to glare up at the Big Rig's driver.

Shark Guy leaned through his rolled down window, waving a long-barreled gun like a child testing the air current outside a car. Was that a taunt?

The genius growled then slammed the Big Rig again. It moved slightly, not enough to slow down, so the van's speed accelerated. At fifty-five MPH, Don knew he was tempting Fate when he rounded the Rig. He beat its bumper until pieces of its black plastic broke off.

Shark Guy fired round after round into the cab as he continued his onslaught. A few grazed the mutant. Most dug into the seat and dashboard. They were of little concern, and with a definitive yank of the steering wheel, Don opted to ram the van's body against the Rig's radiator grille.

That caused a reaction.

The Big Rig twisted, digging up layers of gravel with a screech. Its inertia sent the van into a tailspin that simulated a Merry-Go-Round. Don could only pray as he used the wheel like an anchor to remain inside the cab. The open lot left the vehicle enough room to slow to a stop without much damage, and the mutant's world tilted when he lifted his eyes to the floundering Rig yards ahead.

' _Come on, Sophia! Get them out!_ '

Melody could help if she weren't…

' _Black mentioned a Jammer. Something to paralyze her?_ '

Don looked down on the seat, where he felt a remote wedged below his thigh. Could that be what Black had meant? The genius flicked the toggle switch down. The red light at its top ceased glowing, so he set his sights on the Big Rig again in hopes it made a difference before his family got much further

.

* * *

Raphael held Nia close. She sniffled against his plastron, shaking as they watched the Big Rig skid.

"Why—why's Donny just sitting there?" Nia asked.

Raph glanced at the battered van that sputtered in the distance. "Must be stalled," he said.

"Shit," Hugh added. "Sophia's almost out of time."

Good thing the heroine was accustomed to such pressure and the bypasses kept the lot bathed in an ambient glow. Raph could see that Sophia had made headway after a long assault on the Rig's rear. She gripped a jagged hole, fighting for balance as Shark Guy sought control over his getaway truck. Her fingers pried at its metallic edges like peeling petals off a flower.

It seemed the blonde was failing, though.

"Kuso," Raph whispered.

"The Rig's almost straight again," Hugh said.

Nia's shakes worsened as he dashed ahead. Raphael almost questioned his intent until the man's raised pistol cleared up all confusion. Hugh shot at the Rig's tires. The bullets pierced half their targets with loud pops, and the control Shark Guy had regained was lost again.

Just in time, too. A hand reached out from the back hole—a metal one. It pointed at Sophia before the blonde turned aside. Fierce bends signified Melody's punches from the inside. Within five, undoubtedly fueled by annoyance, the hole opened into a size that would fit Leatherhead.

Sophia wasted no time in helping Melody and Michelangelo bail from the Big Rig. They hit the ground so hard their bodies stirred up thick, white clouds, and they rolled as the Rig exited the lot through an open gateway. By the time they stopped, Donatello knelt beside them.

"Is—is he really leaving?" asked Nia.

"For his sake, he beddah," Raphael replied with a growl. Eyeing the retreating truck, his grip on Nia tightened until she flinched. "So—sorry, Ni. I—" His vision fell from her bloody face to her stomach, which her unbound arms wrapped around. "Are you…?"

"He kicked high." She ignored his real question, the unsaid realization they exchanged with a look. "It hurts, but...le—let's check on the others. I…I'd like to go home first."

The hothead sighed when she turned. She was right; now wasn't a good time to address the pregnancy matter. If she still carried a baby, that is…

Raph shook his head. ' _Let's get out 'a this damn place. Then focus on that. We got a lot ta consider._ '

So, guiding Nia, Raphael approached his siblings. Melody spoke in a hushed tone with Donatello while Sophia and Hugh tried waking Michelangelo. The orange-masked mutant groaned in his girlfriend's hold and Raph swore she looked close to tears.

"What a mess," she said in a hoarse voice. "You so out of it that you needed the ladies to save you, Figo?"

"What was I?" Donny interjected. He helped Melody stand, glaring downwards.

"A little useful," the blonde replied. "But I didn't see you punching through God-knows-what metal."

Mikey chuckled—a weak, almost bland action. "My heroes."

"Can you stand, Figo?"

"I—maybe. How…are Nia and Mel? A—and the baddies?"

Bang!

Everyone ducked then whirled towards the shed. Raph covered Nia's head, in case another gunshot fired. It never did. And the only figures he spotted in the still lot were two bodies. Guess that made sense.

"Shark Guy bails, but then takes the time ta circle around for Fowler?"

"Tying up loose ends," Donatello told his red-masked brother. "Maybe he thinks he'll get another chance to take us later."

"No," Nia whispered.

"Don't worry, Ni," Don said. "I think I know how they tracked us in the first place. That will be the first thing I fix."

"It ain't our only big problem," added Raph. "We're homeless. What do we do about that?"

Donny paused amidst the group, glancing from Black and Fowler to his brothers. "We do the only thing we can do. Look for a new home…"

* * *

 **A/N** : Back together. But what dangers lurk in the background? Heh. In time, my friends. Meanwhile, prepare for family times. :)


	8. September 25 (5:17 PM)

**A/N:** This wraps up the book's 'intro'. It's family fluff/angst/comfort/comedy from here on out!

 _D_ \- Ya know, Mad Max IS on my list of things to watch. New and old. Haven't gotten there though. XD A Rig Rig just seemed natural because "Shark Guy" would be prepared for any mass his...load might be. *shifty eyes* Thanks. I will! :D

 _Feather_ , you're caught up! You have no idea how happy your review dump made me. No. Idea. I really needed the umph, so thanks for reading, gushing over, supporting, and commenting on this series. You sound just as invested in the OCs as the cannon cast. Heck, you even remembered Mel listens to Blackmore's Night. _I_ can't recall when I included that! So, yeah. It means a lot. *hugs and hands over more tissues* From now on, it's all treats - bitter or sweet though they may be. :D

* * *

 **September 25  
** **5:17 P.M.**

April O'Neil's company could hardly fit inside her two-bedroom apartment, let alone in one room. While Hugh and Sophia had returned home the night prior, new objects made up for their mass—recovered keepsakes that Leatherhead had helped Melody pull from the collapsed Lair.

' _Had to believe this is all they could gather,_ ' the redhead thought while scanning her cluttered living room.

Leaning against the sofa, where Michelangelo chatted with Splinter, April spotted a large portrait. The gift Nia painted for the guy's twenty-fourth birthday. She frowned at the jagged tear through the canvas and approached it to run a finger over its textured surface.

"Important things were kept, at least." Splinter's voice snuck up on April, although it was common.

She glanced up at the mutant rat with a sigh. "You saved your master's portrait, too. If you want, I could try to restore this. I'm no high-class museum, but—"

"Fix it as well as possible, April-chan." Splinter smiled. "However, do not worry about erasing its scars."

"Why?"

The rat's expression darkened. "I choose to see it as a remembrance. These EMTs, betrayers of their oaths, tore us in half. Yet we found one another, as we always do. Now, we must move on."

"I still can't believe it," April added. "Black Lotus should've stayed in the past. This never should've happened. The responders who helped the guys did their best. They had every reason not to, but they treated everyone in that bunker equally, as if species didn't matter."

"And according to Michelangelo's account, they kept their promise. They never once succumbed to the pressure from Black-san or Fowler-san. A chance sighting gave away my sons. The men were not strong enough to shoulder the reality. Fear of the unknown thus festered inside them, and it ultimately led to their deaths."

"That's another thing that scares me. This Shark Guy wore a mask, yet still felt threatened enough to shoot an unarmed man. Who could legally do nothing without incriminating himself or seeming like a raving lunatic. Whoever he's connected with—Master Changeling?—he knew Melody intimately enough to create a honing device. How?"

Splinter's head shook, his chest heaving. "I cannot say. Neither can Melody-chan. But there was a long period during her…transformation that she cannot recall. Perhaps Doctor Stephens and Lombardo were not the only scientists involved in her creation."

Melody was crafted by scientists, wasn't she?

What a frigid thought. The longer April dwelled on it, the more she realized how terrifying that would've been—even for the bravest soul. What must it have been like to wake up with your limbs missing? How much did she feel when they cut her? How helpless and alone she must've been.

In the end, it made logical sense that the cyborg would give into their expectations. Her detachment from humanity wasn't entirely her fault…

"Donatello has already fixed the issue, April-chan. Blocked the signal he thought no one else knew. We are safe in the meantime."

"Until something else happens. How many homes must you lose before you stay safe?" April stood and balled her hands. "First the Mousers. Then Shredder. Now this? It's not _fair_ to you!"

"Life ain't fair, Dudette," Mikey interjected with a shrug. "Especially for us. I'm just glad we were saved before being sold. Did the whole 'test subject' thing. Didn't like it."

"Mike." April's voice faded under the mutant's grin; it was so fake.

"Donatello and Melody-chan are already searching for new possible homes," Splinter added. His paws fidgeted over the gnarled cane he needed for his a broken leg, their claws clicking against its sanded wood. "We will find something soon. We must, for…"

"So"—April straightened as her gaze drew upstairs—"Raph and Nia are really…?"

"Crazy, eh?" Mikey asked.

"Ho—how's Raph taking it?"

The Nunchaku master snorted. "Like Casey would. Guy's downright petrified."

* * *

Nia's heart leapt. Not from a distant memory or a dream about her hellish previous night, but from the bulky silhouette standing in the spare bedroom's doorway.

"He—hey, Raph," she said, seated in bed. "H—how are you?"

"I should be askin' ya that," Raphael countered. He remained at the entrance, obscured by the shadows casted from the drawn curtains. "Is Pez in here?"

"He's at my feet. Out like a light."

"Don said he'd be sluggish for a while. He's lucky his heart didn't stop."

"Yeah…he—he really risked his life for me?"

"It's one thing we could agree on. How're ya back n' head?"

Nia traced a bubbled line on her face. "Better. They were just scrapes. Deep scrapes."

"An'…yer stomach?"

Hand trembling, it fell to the artist's over-sized T-shirt then gripped the chubby fat below it. "Tender. Th—there's a big bruise on the side, but Me—Melody gave me a check-up."

"An'?"

'She, uh, sh—she heard it. The heartbeat."

"Really?" Raph whisper hung in the shady room.

Was it fearful? Surreal? Angry?

Nia couldn't tell. A foreign emotion filled her, left her jittery. She had no idea if it was hers or Raphael's. Or a mix.

But who felt negatively? Her or her husband?

The young woman hunched, air stolen by a creeping heat inside her lungs.

"Ni?"

"Yo—you want him, don't you?" Nia said through chattering teeth. "Pl—please tell me you do. He's a surprise, but—but—but—"

She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? Hands clamoring against her tight throat, Nia stretched her neck it hopes of opening its airway. It only riled tears and quickened her heart.

"Ni." Raph's voice sounded close. Strange; the artist never noticed him approach the bed. "Ya think I'm mad that ya're pregnant?"

She nodded then laid her hands on her pelvis.

"The only way I could be mad is if it ain't my kid. It's my kid, right?"

How could he say such a thing? Gawking, Nia's tears increased.

"I—I've only ever been with one guy," she whispered with a sniffle. "I would _never_ —"

The mutant ran a thumb below her wet, burning eye. "Chill. I trust ya, Shuǐ."

"So why are you…? What is this feeling? I—I don't know what it is. Or if it's yours or mine, and…"

It hurt. It burned through her bone marrow. Yet at the same time sent flutters through her stomach. Or maybe that was nausea acting up.

"I—I dun't mean ta confuse ya. I…" Raph lifted his hands so they covered hers. "This is a big shift," he said in a softer tone. "It's unreal an' my brain hasn't quite caught up wit' reality. But…I know one thing."

"Wh—what's that?" The pressure on Nia's stomach grew, despite her flinch.

"No one's ever gunna hurt him again. If anoddah bastard tries ta hit ya, I swear I'll break more than his fingers."

Nia smiled at his glower. It was sweet, right? A little morbid, yet sweet.

"I was angry," the mutant continued as the pressure eased. "No, more than angry. I thought…maybe the baby had been killed. I ain't got one clue about fatherhood, but it's my job ta be there for him. So…yer pain freaked me out."

"Sorry."

"Dun't apologize."

"I—" Nia stopped herself under Raph's glare. "At least I'm not using 'Sir'."

"It wasn't yer fault ya were in that situation. An' ya were fightin' for our baby 'n siblings. Like me."

"Because I love them. _Especially_ our baby."

"Ya mean that?"

Nia met Raphael's amber gaze. Finally, one emotion stood out: hope. It brought a smile to the artist's face and gave her enough courage to cup his jaw.

"I'm scared, too," she started. "We're homeless with little to offer. This child is the start of a new race, so we have no idea what unique hurdles he'll face. However…I'll work hard for him. I _want_ him."

"He…he dun't unnerve ya?"

"I'm attracted to a mutant turtle. I—I'd be a hypocrite if I could love you and not our child. Besides…I'm a hybrid also."

"So ya really—? I mean…"

Was it so hard to grasp? Or did he think she was lying?

Nia's thumbs brushed Raphael's chin, growing hotter with every inch closer she drew to his face. Her lips brushed his mouth in a soft motion, where she released everything through the touch: her excitement, reassurance, anxiety, and love. He returned it just before they broke apart. Then, her heavy eyes stared into his, noting the bright yellow flecks in his irises.

"I love you, Hamato, Raphael," she whispered. "This journey won't be easy. But life isn't easy, particularly ours. All we can do is stand by each other, take it one thing at a time. First being: do you want this baby?"

"Ya know I do."

"So we'll raise him. Together. We'll…we'll make this work."

Raph smirked. Yeah; he caught the echo to when they had decided to take their relationship seriously, and just like back then, he drew her close then stole her lips.

* * *

 **A/N:** And thus a new chapter begins in Nia and Raph's relationship. You got no clue how much I've been pinning for this. :D


	9. September 26 (3:23 PM)

**A/N:** From now on, chapter length varies. Some are short. Some are regular. Depends on the talk. :D

 _Sciencegal_ , me too! I love the babies. And Leo. Next book. Leo.

 _Feather_ , thank you. *steals a tissue to use* That means the world to me - especially since these characters are prototypes for an original adaption I've been working on. *blows nose* We'll see Coyolxauhqui come " _The Distance_ ". As for Casey...He isn't forgotten. Trust me. Most questions you have will be answered with time. Some soon. Some not. Heh. ;)

* * *

 **September 26  
** **3:23 P.M.**

Mia Anders welcomed her daughter into her master bedroom. Why the girl felt a need to knock, Mia had no idea. Then again, Gavin had always been big on etiquette.

"Daddy's working, Mama?" Nia asked.

Mia grinned at her daughter from the king-size bed. "Yes."

"Oh, good."

"All things considering, I think your father is taking the new arrangements well. Adeline and Sophia are still here with Cuddles. Now you and Raphael are staying with that little pig-creature. Pez."

"I—I didn't mean it like that." Hands raised, Nia glanced over her shoulder then shut the door. "I…I have something important to tell you, and…I wouldn't be able to with him here."

"Is this about what happened last week?"

The pale girl stared at her red Converse. "Sort've."

"I know your father isn't too pleased with what happened. I'm not either, but I know not everyone will accept—"

"It isn't that," Nia interjected, heated. She licked her lips, gaze still downwards. "It's bigger."

"Bigger how?"

"Life changing…"

Dear God, please say she wasn't sick. Mia tensed, her new-found strength depleting with her held breath.

"I—I—I'm not dying!" Nia added as she stepped forward. "It's quite the opposite, actually. Instead of something decaying, it's growing. Living inside me."

Living inside? If not cancer or a parasite then…

Mia's eyes widened. "Yo—you're pregnant?"

Nia fought a smile and failed. She nodded, hand on the doorknob. She wouldn't need that escape route, though. Mia's reeling mind allowed her enough leeway to gesture Nia closer and the moment her child reached arms-length, Mia captured her in a hard hug.

"I—Oh my Gosh, Nia. A—are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive," Nia replied while returning the hug. "Mel and Don confirmed it. My—My first ultrasound is soon."

"This"—the brunette could hardly breathe—"this is amazing. I can't believe it."

"You…you aren't mad?"

"Mad? Why would I be mad? Yeah, you're young. At least you made it past your teen years, unlike some girls these days."

"That's part of it…"

"Ni." Mia drew back slowly to gather her thoughts. She met her daughter's blue and brown gaze with a smile and touched their foreheads together. "You have to remember something. I tried having babies. For a long time. When the doc told me I couldn't? That about destroyed me. Do you know why?"

Nia's forehead rocked against her mother's.

"I missed family. I had Gavin, but…I wanted the dynamic of a child. I wanted someone to care for, who would love me unconditionally. Someone who I could teach what I had learned after the Johnsons disowned me."

"So you adopted me?" Nia asked in a small voice.

"Life blessed me with the chance. You've been my world ever since."

"What…what made you pick me, though? Misses Flemming says I was withdrawn during my stay at Warner-Frost."

"And frightful. Almost feral. I knew you would require special care. That's why I took time off work after your adoption, so I could help with your acclimation."

"So…I was like an abused puppy?"

"In a way. You'd hide in closets, under tables, between the furniture and walls. Took forever to get you to sleep in your bed for an entire night."

"I"—Nia' brows scrunched—"I don't remember ever being scared of you and Daddy."

"Good. That was my goal."

"Was I really so fearful once?"

Mia heaved a weak sigh. "The first three years of your life are a mystery, Ni. Whatever happened left a negative impact. It bothered Gav."

"Really?"

"Not in the way you might think. You were terrified of his glasses, his height and build. That…ate him up inside. He wanted nothing more than for to smile at him, so we started your trips."

"The camping trips."

Brushing a hand through her child's shoulder-length hair, Mia smiled. Until the age of five, Nia cried before leaving with her father. The brunette could recall her sobs; they had cut like knives through both parents. However, Mia had convinced Gavin it was all for the best. He looked awkward about it, too. She still found it adorable.

' _And the more often they went out, the more Ni enjoyed it. Now she can't remember a camping trip or date she hadn't looked forward to._ '

At least, until Nia's preteen years drew to a close. Then, her headaches became a wedge between her and her parents.

"Da—Daddy's gunna hate me for this too."

"Oh, Nia." The mother rubbed her daughter's shoulders as the young female quivered with tears. "Your father never hated you and he never will. He loves you. He's just…horrible at showing it. It'll be okay."

"He—he's gunna hate my baby." Nia's face fell against Mia's collarbone, her arms wrapping around the brunette's torso.

Mia had little muscle to move her legs, but she did twist at the waist so Nia could sit on the bed's edge. "I…I can't assure he'll be open-minded. It'll take time and talks. But this is his grandchild."

"Some people just don't care about that stuff," Nia grumbled.

"True. I'll work with him then. It's what I do."

"You're really okay with this?"

Mia laid her check against her daughter's frayed hair, smiling. "Life has granted you an opportunity I never had. I'm happy for you, Ni. And I'll be here for you and Raphael. Always."

.

* * *

 **A/N:** Short and sweet. Next one is twice as long. LOL. Hope you enjoyed this little mother/daughter fluff. :P


	10. September 29 (1202 AM)

**A/N:** Like promised. Longer. ;)

 _Zathura_ , hey! That's the question of the century. LOL. Just wait...little more on them to come. Thanks for the reviews and for supporting Mia. :D

 _D_ , here's your next fix. Heheh.

* * *

 **September 29  
** **12:02 A.M.**

Splinter stroked Klunk, running his claws through the feline's matted orange fur. "You are growing quite large," he said. "You barely fit in an armchair with me anymore."

"Blame Mike," Raphael added from the sofa. He sat with his crossed legs propped on the coffee table, gaze focused on the television. His hands were clasped over his plastron, but Splinter knew his son held little interest in the recorded Soap Operas. "He's been feedin' that cat table scraps. An' she gets territorial since she thinks Pez will eat her dinner."

"When Pez-chan, in fact, dines on fish and wet dog food."

"Weird thing."

Splinter chuckled. "I figured you would have warmed up by now, Raphael. Pez-chan did risk his life to be there for Nia when you could not."

Raphael flinched, clasped hands tightening. "Not my fault."

"Who is placing blame? I simply mean you and him should have a better understanding. Yes?"

"Well"—Raphael made a popping noise with his mouth—"we can sleep in the same room with Nia now. Gotta be careful where my feet go, but…"

"Is it progress, my son. So he no longer stays in a cage?"

"Like there's ever been a cage he couldn't chew out of."

"True. He at least quit forcing you from bed."

"Only after I kicked him across the room. Nia yelled, but boundaries needed ta be set."

"Was that not long before Pez-chan started chewing your Sais?"

The Chūnin grimaced, mumbling curses under his breath. Therefore Splinter let the subject die, asking,

"How was your call with Michelangelo and Nia-chan?"

The grimace darkened. "They're on their way. I talked wit' Ape before she went ta bed. She said it'd be fine if Nia 'n I crash in the livin' room for a bit…"

"The news was ill-received, I take it."

Raphael narrowed his eyes at the nameless couple on television—a silent act that spoke volumes.

"You wish you had gone after all," Splinter said without a doubt.

"Hai. Even though I probably would've made things worse."

Pained though he was to admit it, Raphael was right. Splinter could clearly picture the alphas' argument escalating, perhaps to the point where punches were exchanged. Such stress would have been terrible for Nia's pregnancy.

"Ni thought it'd be easier ta tell him privately, like she did wit' her mom. Wrong. By the end, Adeline 'n Pink got involved. Mike tried calmin' things down. Gavin stormed out. Nia was…cryin'."

"What a mess," Splinter said more to himself than Raphael.

"Mia's waitin' for him ta digest things, but Ni didn't wanna stay."

"Understandable. However, we should not intrude on April-chan for much longer."

Glare faltering, the mutant turtle sent his father a quick glance. "We're split up this time. Well, were until Gavin's meltdown."

"Spread out between two homes does not make us any less intrusive. Nia will always have a place with her parents, of course, but I do wish Fate favored us more while searching for a new home. We need space, especially with a little one on the way."

Raphael shivered; Splinter noticed the action in his Chi. The Chūnin swallowed, fiddled his six fingers. Clearly, anxiousness still burdened him.

"Donatello tells me Nia-han will go to Leatherhead for a sonogram when the machine is debugged."

"Ye—yeah."

"You will accompany her?"

Raphael's head jerked towards his father. "Why wouldn't I?"

"There is no reason to fear the trip."

"I ain't scared 'a no picture!"

"That picture represents more than an image, my son. You will see. Maybe then you will feel more confident in the role you have already begun to walk."

"Which is?"

"Being a father." When Raphael licked his lips, the old master slipped a claw below Klunk's chin, its warmth vibrating with her purrs. "I assure you, the urge to keep your child safe will only grow. The little one is fortunate to have such a courageous, passionate parent as a protector."

"What if that ain't what he wants?" Raphael asked with a half-shrug. "What if…what if I ain't any good at it?"

"I have watched you mature since you could fit in my paw, Raphael. You have proven rash and at times succumb to blind rage. However, that fire burns for good as well. Your child will know only security and love, even if you feel you have awkward ways of showing it."

"I've hurt my bros before. Wh—what if somethin' happens wit'…" The mutant looked flush, lolling his head against the sofa's backrest.

"That was in your youth, my son," Splinter said. "You have found better means of quelling your frustrations. Besides, you will not be alone in this endeavor. Along with many clan members who are ready as aid, Nia-chan will be beside you. She is your water and will unsure your fire will not burn your child."

Did Raphael believe his father? Somewhat. His Chi eased a little, but he stayed quiet, eyes distant.

' _He has yet to fully accept the fact that will have a child. Such is natural. If I recall, Melody mentioned it may not set in until Nia begins showing or he hears the baby's heartbeat like she had. I bet it is a beautiful sound…_ '

"Easy, Pez! Will you wait for me to let you down first?"

Splinter faced the living room's open window, where he heard Nia squeak. Michelangelo prevented the artist from falling off the windowsill by suspending her by her quilt coat. Her arms were outstretched and Pez squirmed in her hold, his stubby hooves shy of meeting the floor by a good half foot. Biting her lip, she dropped him. He clanked against the wood below, a familiar sound which riled a hiss from Klunk.

"Head to my room, Klunkers!" Michelangelo cried as he set Nia inside. The cat retreated upstairs, unlikely to the bedroom he shared with his owner and more likely to April, who he favored.

"Okaerinasa," Splinter greeted.

"Okaerinasa," Michelangelo repeated while closing the window.

"Okah-ree-nass…" Nia blinked, shedding her coat. "However the rest of that goes. My mind's too fried."

Splinter chuckled into his paw then drew his attention downwards when a gentle nudge hit him. "Hello, Pez-chan," he told the round creature at his feet. Pez's chest puffed and his overbite jaw lowered with a huff. "Very well." The master reached down to retrieve Pez then placed him on his lap. Immediately, the creature closed his eyes.

"You're still up, Sensei?"

Smiling at Michelangelo, Splinter rested a paw atop Pez's back. "My energy has been remarkable these last few months."

"And your leg?"

"A fracture is a fracture. I feel more concerned for Nia-chan."

"Uh, I'd rather not talk about it," Nia answered. "Any of it. Can we just…make taquitos instead?"

"Taquitos?"

Raphael twisted on the sofa, so he hugged its top rest. "I ain't never seen ya eat a taquito before, Ni."

"I did once," said Nia with a nod. "Jalapeño and cheese. It burned my mouth and from then on I swore off spicy foods."

"So"—Michelangelo exchanged looks with his brother and father—"why do you want them?"

"I'm craving them. Like chocolate during my period. They would make me feel a lot better."

"I dun't think Ape has taquitos," Raphael said.

"No worries." After a spin, Nia reached for the book bag Michelangelo shouldered. She unzipped it then pulled out a cardboard box at its top.

"When'd you stuff those in there?" the Nunchaku master asked, eyeing his sister.

"When you were saying your hour-long goodbye to Sophia," Nia countered flatly.

"Don't exaggerate."

"Felt like forever. I even had time to throw up."

"Now that's just fifthly guilt tripping."

"I can't care right now. Make these."

Nia shoved the taquito box at her orange-masked brother without any inhibitions, a true testament to her unstable emotions. April's apartment hummed with her displeasure, but rather than duck her head at the unstable lights as she normally did, Nia groaned.

"I'm going to burn out so many things during this pregnancy, aren't I?"

"It's cool, Sis; we'll just replace what we can." Beaming, Mike opened the box then headed for the kitchen. "I'll get these set. You chill. I'm sure Raphy Boy's missed ya."

"Dun't make me throw a Shuriken at yer ass, Shell-for-Brains," Raphael shot back. Still, he made room for Nia and wrapped her in his arms. Pez peeked at them from Splinter's lap, yet the rat stroked him enough times to convince the creature a fight with his rival would require too much effort.

' _I wonder who would win if we placed Pez-chan, Raphael, and Gavin-san in a room with Nia-chan. She is highly coveted by all three._ '

"Wh—what are you watching, Splinter-san? More stories?"

"I was, my daughter. However, we can pick something more suitable for the family if you…Nia-chan, are you okay?"

The artist sniffled, except it did little to ease the sudden tears that flowed down her red cheeks. "Wh—wh—why are they showing these commercials already? Halloween hasn't even passed!"

Splinter's gaze found the television. Then he understood.

The softly-sung 'Silent Night' lyrics overlaid videos of sleeping babes and their mothers. It was a Christmas diaper commercial, well-circulated in the last few years. It must've touched Nia in way only another pregnant woman could understand.

"What's wrong wit' the commercial?" Raphael asked. "Should I change it?" His hands fumbled for the remote on the coffee table, but Nia stole it before he could push any buttons.

"Don't!" she yelled. "It's beautiful!"

"So yer cryin'?"

The young woman nodded and cradled the remote against her chest. "They're so cute and tiny. We—we're gunna have one of those."

Raphael stiffened as his wife leaned against him. He comforted her with a hug, although he looked pained. "Come on, Ni. I hate it when ya cry."

"Get used to it, Raph," Donatello said from the stairs. He descended into the living room, grinning. "Her emotions will be haywire for at least two more months. Maybe more."

The Sai master paled until his face looked light green.

"I—I'm not _that_ bad, right, Donny?" Nia pulled away from her husband to face the purple-masked Chūnin, who chuckled behind the sofa.

"It should be…interesting. We can handle it. Eh, Raph?" Raphael kept silent and Donatello's smile never weakened. "Mel fell asleep. She's exhausted from excavating and searching for a new place."

"Any luck?" Splinter asked.

"We have one place we're considering."

"The old water plant?" Nia asked.

"Yeah. But she wants to talk with Baker first."

Raphael sent the genius a questioning look. "Why Baker?"

"She wants to ask him some things. That's all she said."

"Figures."

"I trust her, Raph. You should too."

"Never said I didn't. So can we focus on—?" The red-masked Chūnin gestured to his wife with his head, pleading with his eyes.

"She just needs something funny. I got just the thing."

"Ooh! Are we playin' come comedy up in here?" Michelangelo materialized from seemingly thin air. The youngest mutant jumped through the room that lingered with a subtle-spicy scent then raced towards Donatello when the genius shifted through a duffle bag on the dining room table.

"I was sure to grab this before the cave-in," Donatello said. He turned to display a worn VHS. The label on its side was written in crayon and brought a smile to Splinter's face.

"The Girly Scream Remix of Ninety-Seven," Nia read out loud. Sniffling, she rubbed her eyes. "Is this the prank tape you told me about, Raph?"

Raphael laughed in small bursts, more so when Michelangelo sent him a dry look over his shoulder.

"Dudes, seriously?" he asked. "Of all the lasts-minute things you could grab."

"I grabbed priceless and useful things," Donatello countered. He approached the entertainment center with a rare smirk. "It just so happens that in this case, it's both."

"Uh-huh."

"Karma, Mike. Besides, Nia seems excited."

The orange-masked mutant glared at his sister, who glued herself to the television in anticipation, yet said nothing more when he stalked into the kitchen. Splinter saw the childish behavior as endearing. These kids would always be just that in his eyes—regardless of age or stages in life—and part of him anticipated the video tape.

It had been an awfully long time since he last heard his sons' young voices.

* * *

 **A/N:** Echo from " _Finding Balance_ ". HA! Oh, my tie-in's. Anyway. Writing pregnant Nia is fun. ;)


	11. October 2 (11:48 AM)

**A/N:** Full OC scene. However, it's important. And I hope you care enough about these two by now. :)

 _Sciencegal_ , I've been meaning to use that tape for a while. Glad you enjoyed it. XD

 _D_. Gavin. I. Just. Gah. He didn't turn out like planned. At all. You'll get a talk between him and Mia...soon. *whistles innocently*

* * *

 **October 2  
** **11:48 A.M.**

Melody should feel comfortable inside George Baker's private office. Her robotic features were fully covered, regardless of how the heat made her pant. The older gentleman looked across his desk with a trademark smile. And no matter how much paint or new furniture replaced the older versions, the fact remained: here, she and Baker had plenty of deep conversations.

In fact, she sat in the same chair. Why hadn't he replaced that?

"So," Baker started, "are you going to tell me why we're here? Or would you rather sit in the near-dark?"

"Forgive me," Melody said. "I feel more comfortable this way…"

Baker's bulbous nose scrunched with his smile. It accentuated the wrinkles around his deep-set eyes, which reminded her so much of her mother. Really, they could've been related…

"What do you _need_ , Melody?"

Melody fidgeted. In her lap, her hands twisted the polyester surrounding them, but despite the attempt to contain her anxiety, it shook her voice. "Well, I…something has happened to my family."

Right; frankness would be best. It always had been.

"Oh?" Smile easing, Baker lifted his worn, leathery hands onto the desk and interlaced his spotted fingers. "This is the family you have been living with since last winter, yes?"

"Yes."

"With Miss Brown."

Mel nodded. "She's Misses Hamato now. Like me."

"Married?" The elderly man shook his balding head. "You don't visit nearly enough, Melody. I would love to know these things."

Had the cyborg flinched? She didn't think she had, yet Baker's expression softened in the lamp's light.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Melody, monotonous.

"What happened?"

"Home invasion. The place was destroyed. We had no insurance. Now…"

"You're homeless again."

Melody's vision averted to the yellow-bulb peeping atop the desk lamp's cover. "I—I did not know where else to turn. We are considering prospects; however, our income is minimal and renovations alone are expensive."

"How many are you?"

"Seven. Eight if my brother has his way. With"—Mel held her tongue then gave into honesty—"a baby in our future."

"Gracious."

"Sarah," the name sounded odd to the cyborg's ears, "she and my husband are the only ones capable of work. The others…We're—"

"Say no more." Baker sounded every bit as forthright as Mel. That wasn't why her jaw grew slack. The man stood from his chair to rummage through a local filing cabinet then pulled out a square piece of perforated paper, which he surveyed.

"I have no right to ask anything of you," she told his backside. "You're already pouring so much into my school tuition an—"

"And you need money," Baker concluded in a light tone.

The cyborg shook her head, the man's short figure partially obscured by her hood's brim. "I'm not here to beg. I was just hoping you'd have some resources or connections."

"I do." Baker slid the paper across the glass-top desk. "Me," he added with a chuckle.

"What is this?" asked Melody softly. She knew they were checks, but she hadn't been questioning about them. Baker sensed as much.

The older man rounded the desk until he reached its other side. Leaning against the lip, he lifted a leg to sit on it half-way, his gaze every bit as serious as his voice. "My purpose on this planet is to help. I have no blood family. That's okay. I have this hotel instead. So everyone I've helped pull off the ground has been a child to me, a sister, a brother. When I won the lottery, I immediately started crying because…I could only _imagine_ how many people I could save with it."

"Still." Melody's whisper caught like a barb in her throat. "I can't. You've done so much already. I…"

"I know, Melody."

"Know what?"

"The truth."

Mel narrowed her eye. What did he mean? He continued smiling and risked slipping from his perch to gather her hands. He squeezed them. The hard metal below the gloves would be a dead giveaway of their true nature, but his smile only grew.

"Tabitha told me," he added in a whisper. He met her gaze then pushed back her hood.

Why deny what he already knew? Melody let him pull down the cloth around her face as well; it let her breathe a little easier, even if his dark eyes shined with a pain that twisted her gut.

"You're each different," he said.

"We were crafted with different skills in mind. I was the muscle. Sven was the hacker. Tabi…" No; the name stung too much, so Melody lowered her gaze to the old hands that held her.

"I thought it seemed strange," added Baker. "Before, you three had no problems letting others know you lived in this Hotel. Tabitha, especially. When you returned last winter, everything changed. You were closed off even more than before. And the cloaks? Only folks with something to hide wear those."

Drawing in a deep breath, Baker's round chest puffed then deflated. "I made posters for you. No else would, so when you walked into my hotel again, it felt like you had risen from the dead. But you weren't all there, were you?"

Melody ducked her head; she hated seeing that look in the man's gaze—that fatherly concern.

"Do you remember the boy Tabitha had a crush on?"

"Tanner?"

"Little punk led her on for ages. Got a girl in the time she was gone. He didn't let her know that when she came back. It got to a point where she felt she could open up. She…let him see her changes."

Mel's narrowed gaze lifted, wanting him to have better news than what she felt he had.

"He rejected her," Baker continued. "Told her she was hideous and didn't belong with people"

"For his sake, he better not hang around here," Melody said through clenched teeth.

"Not anymore. That night, Tabitha came to me. Said you were busy with your new family, so…she didn't want to bother you."

Guilt. It curled what little food Melody had managed to down during breakfast, and her hands almost crushed what she held, until she noticed Baker's pain.

He flinched, his wrinkles deepening, yet he kept a hold of her. "Tabitha didn't feel her parents could help her through her feelings. She trusted me more than them. Same with Sven. Really, it hurt that you couldn't tell me outright.

"Why would I reject you? The changes were forced. You went through so much hell, and…your kind needs helped more than most."

"My kind?" echoed Melody with a lowered brow.

Baker sent an ambiguous grin, its intent either flippant or all-knowing. "If your family faces the same troubles you do, it's not your fault. You shouldn't be punished for it."

"So you—you're willing to…?"

"Of course. All that aside, this is for everyone's benefit. You're the only doctor who can understand the clientele that will frequent my clinic. I _trust_ you, Melody—your morals, your judgment, your heart. Which is why I feel at ease while giving you these blank checks."

"I—I can't. George."

"You can and will. For your family's sake. For your future nieces or nephews, sons or daughters—whatever it may be. I have this money to do good. Let me."

Melody stared at the blank checks on the desk. So lifeless and dull and yet they held a promise. They could shelter her clan, regain their security—possibly even leave room for expansion. Yes, it was a hand-out. God, did the cyborg hate handouts. But her pride mattered little when compared to the well-being of those she loved.

After all, Nia and Raphael's child deserved something better than scraps of bricks.

"You…you won't regret it, Mister Baker," Melody said as she reached for the paper.

Baker laughed, saying, "That I know as well."

* * *

 **A/N:** I teared up while writing this. I won't lie. George Baker is a SAINT and another positive 'parent' figure in Mel's life. Just letting you know he's still present in the universe (like other forgotten OCs: Jezabel, Damien, Kenneth, Miriam, Doctor Olson, ect.). I don't forget people. They just rear when it's important. ;)


	12. October 10 (1:09 PM)

**A/N:** This is one of my favorite chapters of " _Shift_ ". :"D

 _Seiencegal_ , Right? And you don't know the half of it just yet. ;) I know, I know. I just got no idea where to even start with Leo...You got your sister on board too? Heh. Thanks (whether or not you're strongheld into the idea). xD

* * *

 **October 10  
** **1:09 P.M.**

Twins? Nia was having twins? The young woman gaped at the crudely built ultrasound machine in Leatherhead's Lab, her stomach nearly leaping from her throat when the little figures across its monitor twitched. God, were they beautiful…

"I—is—is that thing accurate?" asked Raphael. He knelt beside the table Nia no longer deemed as uncomfortable or cold and fiddled with the Yin-Yang wedding band on his wife's left hand.

"It is not a glitch, if that is what you are asking, Friend," answered Leatherhead. His rumbling laugh filled the Lab, but sounded muffled to Nia, who couldn't tear her gaze away from the grainy imagine.

The fetuses looked like they had their own rooms inside her womb, little caves that their jellybean-shaped bodies curled up in. A calmness sounded them; Nia could sense it even when she couldn't see them. They were safe. They knew it. And their Chi filled her with such warmth that it brought trembles to her bones.

"Wanna know something else, Raph?" Donatello asked. He moved the Transducer Probe against his sister's bare stomach, a smirk on his wide mouth as Raphael glanced up. "I think they're yours."

"Ha ha, Funny Guy." The hothead almost squeaked. "Ya—ya sure it ain't a glitch?"

Nia giggled into her right hand. She had never heard her husband stutter so much before, not even when he said his first 'I love you'. This experience rattled his mind, so she clenched his three-fingered hand to keep him somewhat focused on Donny's answer.

"Quite sure."

"A—an—and how far along is she?"

"Had to say since these are the first hybrids in our clan…"

"I could go in to details about that, but they would hardly sink in," Melody followed up.

"Wh—where'd you disappear to?" Nia asked. She craned her neck against the table to see what the cyborg carried, but only wound up disoriented from looking at the world upside down.

"Do not strain yourself," Melody told her, stretching out a spiral cord. What'd that belong to?

"Is it working now, my friend?" LH asked her.

"I believe so. Can you hand me that electrical tape behind you, though? Just in case."

The crocodile mutant did so. His tail swayed behind him, its end nothing more than a jumbled mess of bubbly meat that no longer tapered to a point. It was a sad sight, but LH hated when others brought it up. So, Nia watched him turn, silent as he gave the tape to Melody.

"What's that for?" Raph questioned.

"In case the cord comes loose," she answered, listless. "We cannot afford a legitimate Doppler, so Donatello made one."

"What's a Doppler, Gray?"

"You will find out. Donatello."

Donny nodded then clicked a few keys on the ultrasound's keyboard. The image froze, so it stayed up when the purple-masked Chūnin lifted the Transducer Probe. Nia shivered at the cold breeze from his movement, and Melody replaced him, an egg-shaped remote in hand.

"I cannot accurately determine a conception date," she started in that 'doctor like' tone of hers. "From what I can tell, you can be twelve weeks pregnant or less."

"I—I've only been sick since the start of September."

"That means little, Nia. Symptoms do not often show until weeks afterwards. Besides, these children are unique. Which makes this a learning experience for everyone. That said, your uterus has dropped, meaning we may be able to hear their heartbeats."

"Like you could?"

"Better. I had assumed the multiple heartbeats were yours and you baby's. Since we now know they're more, we can hear them for all that they are. If you would like."

Nia met Raphael's gaze. Uncertainty. Fear. Excitement. He fought against the same emotions she did, leaving him silent under her strained smile. Stiffly, they nodded at one another then faced Melody.

She activated the Doppler. For what felt like forever the probe traveled though the gel around Nia's pudgy belly, its base close to Mel's ear. Nia held her breath while watching. The anticipation was madding and when the cyborg increased the Doppler's volume, the artist's limbs tingled.

"Here."

A simple word preceded a profound event. The sound was soft—a quick, whirl-like-thump that repeated and overlapped through the brick Lab. It was also proof.

They were alive. Really, alive. They weren't just an idea or a picture. They were more. Their hearts beat inside her womb and she was charged with their safety. These little beings belonged to her. They were her children, her miracles.

And they were alive.

Nia couldn't breathe, let alone close her mouth. Every time she tried, it fell again. So, her jaw shook as her prickling eyes focused on the ultrasound's monitor. She felt like throwing up, but in a good way. And the nausea didn't stop her from grabbing the arms Raphael wrapped around her.

He buried his face into her scared shoulder, smearing it with a warm wetness. "This…this is really happenin', ain't it?"

His whisper pierced Nia's lightheaded haze. "Huǒ, these…these are our babies," she whispered in return.

"Never"—a sniffle sounded by her neck—"I never thought this could happen. Not even through adoption an' yet… God, th—they're real,Shuǐ."

"Raph, w—w—we're going to be parents."

Any intellectual words left Nia with her following sob. Why fight the tears? Raph didn't. She let them take control while sinking into her husband's hold, forgetting everything—save the two jellybean figures and the thumping-whirls that would forever change her life…

* * *

 **A/N:** Things just got a wee bit more complicated. But these two kids have been twins since 2009. I won't change that. Sorry, Raphy! :D


	13. October 22 (4:01 PM)

**A/N:** I said there would be a Gavin and Mia talk. Here you have it. *puts on helmet*

 _Sciencegal_ , yeesh! Raph twin cuteness! :D

 _Zathura_ , right? It feels so good to know others agree with this twist. Thank you! :'D

 _Rhodesincolumbus_ , hello, newcomer! *hands over gift basket* Thanks for the support and love. I'm SO HAPPY you've enjoyed the story thus far. :)

* * *

 **October 22  
** **4:01 P.M.**

Mia sent her husband a hard stare every time he glanced up from the living room television. He noticed the looks, and for the longest time, ignored them. Until her hard stare evolved into a glare.

"What?" Gavin asked.

"You know 'what'," Mia countered.

"Mi—"

"I want my babies here. All of them. Raphael, Nia, and the little ones she's carrying. She told you, didn't she? She's having twins."

A slow, loud sigh cut through the news report that acted as a background hum to the conversation. The redhead clasped his hands tightly, unmoving on the sofa.

"I've given you time," Mia added. "Just accept it. You can't stop this and if you tried…"

"I'm not _that_ cruel," Gavin muttered.

"So why not be happy? Nia and Raph need the support."

"It isn't right."

"Says who. You?" Mia frowned when her husband twitched and pushed herself further against the sofa's armrest, which braced her back. "You know what isn't right? Hurting your daughter."

"These," Gavin glanced down, " _children_ will cement things."

"Things? What things? Wake up, Gavin. Things were cemented months before these babies came along. You complained about not seeing a ring on Ni's finger? Well, Raph got help and changed that."

"I noticed in July."

"What's done is done." Shoulders falling, Mia's voice grew soft. "Our baby's married. She's starting a family. And you should be at her side, not blocking her way."

"I—I can't, Mia. I…" He began scratching his knees through his dress slacks.

After so many years, Mia knew the Tell like second nature. Forward and back. Again and again. Silent in tracing the fingernail scars below the fabric.

"You know," she started, hands on her tender legs, "this time last year Nia wasn't with us. She was taken. You had no leads. And I wasn't even self-aware. But the Hamatos never gave up. They're good people."

"You think this is about that?"

"I know it isn't. I'm just saying. Gav, we aren't in Ireland." The scratching paused as Mia drew in a slow breath. "The Hamatos aren't your sect. The situation is completely different. It won't be a repeat of whatever happened with the mole hair people."

"Moher."

The brunette managed a smile, hollow though it may be. "Yeah. Them."

With a scoff, Gavin gripped his knees and a sunlit glare across his round spectacles obscured his gaze from Mia. "Ya can't mean that about a brutal time ya were never part of. Ya have no idea what happened. No idea…"

"Because you won't _tell_ me," Mia whispered. She reached ahead, yet fell short of her husband's dress shirt. His thick, Southern-like drawl and shakes froze her from the inside out.

"It's me burden. _Me_ fault! I will not give it to ya! I'm no sap and refuse to put those thoughts in yar head. Ya got enough rotten memories."

"How is that fair?" Mia all but screamed. "You hoard all the poison and think that's protecting me? It's not. It's affecting me, too. Gavin"—Mia's voice broke—"we vowed to be there for each other, through better or worse. Why won't you let me help you through the worse?"

"Ya already have," Gavin answered in a small voice. "The night ya convinced me not to kill meself. Ya saved me then."

"But not by conquering your demons. For Heaven's sake, I had an easier time convincing you to take Nia on her first camping trip than I've ever had talking about your cousin and sect."

"I cut that out of me life, Mi. It was the only way to move forward without devolving into some header."

"If you had truly cut it out, we wouldn't be in this situation."

The truth cut deep.

Gavin jerked his head sideways, chin length hair covering half his face. "Everything was fine before last year."

"No, it wasn't! We were losing our daughter to depression!"

The redhead stood—a sudden action that stomped his feet against the floor. He said nothing. Mia doubted he could, given how tensely he clenched his jaw.

"We—we thought we could manage it," Mia continued. "We were wrong. She needed something more. Sh—she…we weren't enough."

"Don't say that," Gavin spat.

"It hurts, but it's true. Had it not been for Splinter, Michelangelo, Raphael, Jones, everyone, she'd still be—"

"Stop. Now."

"No!" Meeting her husband's narrow, green eyes, Mia sat strong on the sofa. "Nia needed to expand. We couldn't help with that."

"So ya're sayin' I'm banjaxed anyway." Gavin's head shook as his arms flailed. "I turned out like me Da always said. A useless piece of shiat no one wants. Not even me Ma. Guess it makes sense that the one place where I felt I could make a difference led to a dead end. Me cousins were right…so was me uncle."

"No"—Mia wagged a finger—"your sect is still wrong. So are you. There are no dead ends when making a difference. They change; don't end. You can make a difference now by reassuring your daughter you'll be there for her. Regardless of your anxieties, personal interests, or faults. She _needs_ you."

"Does she?"

Gavin's whisper stung, clenching Mia's throat like invisible fingers until they left her breathless. "You're forming a wedge between us and her. Worse still, it's out of a fear that you won't share. I can't let that wedge remain. I want to be throughout her pregnancy, Gavin. She's scared and excited and wants to share her milestones with us. Yet you give her the cold shoulder. Does that mean you're done being a father?"

"Never." At least he answered without hesitation, although he glanced away while clenching his fists. "It goes against logic, but…part of me sees Nia as Keelan. If I let me guard down, if something happens because I wasn't vigilant enough…I won't be talked down from the ledge. I'll jump. And I won't look back."

He meant every word, which is why Mia felt so sick. "There's a small army around Nia, who would die before letting anything happen to her. Hell, Hugh included. They won't betray her or mistreat her. They want exactly what you want for her: happiness, health, love, freedom."

"Their lives _aren't_ free."

"She's half Languu," Mia said, toneless. "It's as free as she'll ever be. With or without them. You can't say you don't feel better knowing she's surrounded by people in the same boat, others who know just what she needs to stay out of bad hands."

God, did the woman wish her legs could support her. If they could, she would've stood and stalked towards her husband. She'd rip off his glasses and stare into his near-sighted eyes so he could feel the impact behind her frustration and pleading.

But she couldn't.

She had only words, so she saturated them with broken trembles. "You came to America with nothing, save pocket change, to become a better person than what your family dictated. Like me. So be the better person I know lies inside you. Please. Le—let our baby know our home will always be a safe haven. Convince her you don't hate who or what she is. Please, l—let…let them come home."

A chattering jaw kept Mia from adding anything more. She sniffled and watched her husband with a heavy heart. He stepped aside, towards the entryway way that led to the foyer, then brought his focus to her. He was crying. The sunlight and his pale skin made it hard to tell, but the streams were evident when he approached.

Fear. He'd always been so scared. And no one else could see it below his stoic guard and dismissive anger.

"I know you loved us being under your wing," Mia whispered, chest tight from the thumbs he ran under her watery eyes. "You loved being the provider, the protector, the leader. It must pain you to let that go, but she isn't forsaking our nest. She's building another beside ours. Do—don't you want to be a part of that?"

The redhead nodded. His tears remained unchecked as he took a seat beside Mia and he enveloped her in weak hug, ragged breathing as his only noise.

"You mean a lot to her, Gav. And guess what."

Stiffly, the man glanced up. Mia removed his glasses to meet his green eyes. Tears glossed their rich color, which made them shine brilliantly. They were the vulnerable eyes she'd had fallen in love with, the eyes she rarely saw in the last decade. And no matter the pain, dread, or desperation behind them, she always found them beautiful.

"I'll always need you," she whispered. It was everything he desired to hear; his head rested on hers and he signified his resignation with a sigh.

* * *

 **A/N:** I keep forgetting to mention that Mia completed her Speech Therapy during the time gap between " _A Tale of Heroes_ " and " _Shift_ ". This is why she doesn't need to carry around a handkerchief anymore or slur nearly as much. If she seems stronger, that's why. xD Anyways, hope ya'll understand Gavin a wee bit more now. Broken people are the hardest to reach...


	14. October 31 (3:11 AM)

**A/N:** LOL, guys. Mia is a saint. Yes. *cheers for that women* I'd like to say you'd see why Gavin's so stubborn if you knew what he went though...but i'm not ready to reveal that bit yet. He's a slow-roasting nut. And until the mini book I have planned for him, you'll just get nuggets because i'm gracious like that. *bricked*

I will say he DOES understand the difference between his Sect and the Hamatos. He just fears the pain he went through with his Sect will happen again with the Hamatos... :P

* * *

 **October 31  
** **3:11 A.M.**

God must've hated Nia. It was the only logical explanation for the trouble she faced.

There. Were. No. Taquitos.

' _It should be outlawed to not have them in stock, it really should,_ ' she thought while glaring into her parent's freezer.

With a huff, she slammed the freezer door then glanced at the electric stove. Little after three AM? The hole-in-the-wall convenience store outside Columbus Square should still have some in stock. Maybe even cooked, if she pleaded.

' _Like I can sleep anyway. Today's the worst date of my life._ '

That settled it. She left the kitchen then entered the foyer beyond it. She stopped by several coats that hooked along a decorative brass wall mount. Usually, two, maybe three garments, rested there. Now, an additional three joined Gavin's and Mia's, and Nia was powerless against the smile that overwhelmed her.

"Do jackets tell good jokes, Ni?"

Nia stepped back, her quilted coat in hand. Her head jerked towards the stairs' base, opposite of the front door. There, Raphael stood with crossed arms, smirking.

"H—hey," she said. "What are you doing up?"

The mutant quirked an eye ridge. "Took a page outta yer book. Had ta pee."

"That's not funny," the artist countered, smile gone. "It's a genuine problem."

"A common one. I know. Sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"Now can ya tell me what ya were ya grinnin' at?"

"No—nothing much. It's just…" Nia's gaze fell to her colorful coat then lifted to the mount. "I got really happy."

"Why?"

"We're not a family of three anymore." Nia words were whispered towards the clothes, to keep her eyes from stinging as she explained. "I joined your clan last year. Soph-chan and Adeline-san are now part of that. And soon"—her hands pressed her jacket against her bloated belly—"we'll grow some more. It took Mama almost a month to get Daddy to come to terms with it. Still, it…it makes me happy."

"Me too." Raph's whisper was gruff, barely noticeable.

His genuine love and fear stuck Nia's brain, though, so she faced him with a smile. He mirrored it like hoped then approached his wife on silent feet. Their eyes met when he traced a thumb over her cheek, a formidable force that weakened the young woman's fatigued body even more.

"Where do ya think ya're goin' alone?" Raphael asked.

"Seven-Eleven," Nia answered through puckered lips.

"Right now?"

"You don't understand. I _need_ taquitos."

"At three in the mornin'?"

"Yes."

"Yer still cravin' those things?"

The foyer's chandelier flickered as Nia frowned. "The twins demand cheese and jalapeños. Otherwise, I don't sleep. And if I don't sleep—"

"Got it," said Raph with raised hands. He reached for a trench coat whose hem pooled around the hardwood floor then slipped into it.

Nia stepped back. "Wh—what are you doing?"

"Like hell ya're goin' alone."

"It's a little over a block away."

"Dun't care."

"I—I used to bring home food for Mama and Daddy all the time."

"It's basically Halloween," the mutant interjected. He stole Gavin's pin-stripe fedora and crammed it onto his head before wrapping Mia's scarf around the remainder of his green face. "On a day like this, my bros 'n I can pass as large freaks on the street."

"But—"

"Ya want taquitos?"

Nia met her husband's pointed eyes behind his red bandanna. "Fine. You win."

Raph watched the artist bundle herself up. Seconds later, she looked and felt twice as big and let him walk ahead of her after he nodded.

"Wait!" Nia cried at his back.

Raph stopped by the door. "What?"

"…I gotta pee."

* * *

Heavenly cheese. Wonderful peppers. Crunchy tortilla. Their taste was so relieving, Nia barely noticed the taquitos' spicy bite and sank into the cushioned chair on the townhouse's back balcony.

"Beddah?" Raphael asked from a matching chair.

Nia sent him a (pun intended) cheesy grin.

"Good," he added. "Ya ain't yerself when ya're cravin'."

"You sound like a Snickers commercial."

"Seems pretty accurate."

Sticking out her tongue, Nia picked up a sixth taquito from the cardboard container in her lap then bit it in half.

"Easy, Killer."

"Do I lecture you when you eat pizza with your brothers?"

The mutant fell silent. Of course, he realized he was nagging. That shamed him a little, but some underlying worry kept him from enjoying the moment. Nia felt the hot tug in her mind and chest.

"Ya sure cravin's 'n a pressed bladder are the only things keepin' ya up, Ni?" Raph asked.

Nia swallowed with great effort. "Th—this is about it being Halloween, right?"

"Mel 'n Don said bad dreams are common from pregnant women. An' ya were already prone ta them…I know how heavy today must make ya feel."

"It's as heavy as you felt before my birthday."

"That wasn't as bad."

Nia's mismatched eyes glanced away from the moon to find her husband. "Really?"

He nodded. "I did what I could. I watched a woman die. Felt it. She wanted me ta save her kid. I couldn't. But she _trusted_ that I would. Me. A mutant. Even in her last seconds that…"

"Touched you."

Raphael wanted to deny his wife's soft words; he wasn't very sentimental in that sense. Still, he squeezed the fingers Nia slipped between his on the chair's armrest, acknowledging her with their warmth.

"I have been anxious," Nia said. "Especially since work is filled with Halloween talk, decorations, and…you know. It upsets me, what people say. Then I remind myself."

"About what?"

"They don't know me. I know what I did. It wasn't my fault. And I trust that everyone around me, my clan"—Nia's voice cracked—"won't let me slip away like that ever again."

"Damn straight," Raph about growled. His trembling fingers gripped hers tighter until her tears fell onto the armrest. "Bishop won't get the chance. Not him or any oddah coo-coo scientist. As long as I'm alive"—his emotions chocked him, so he clenched his teeth to keep tears at bay—" _no one_ will hurt ya or our kids. Promise."

Nia smiled when her husband kissed her forehead, yet said nothing more. Despite the grim topic, there were worse ways to start a day. And for once in a long while, her nausea subsided.


	15. November 6 (7:26 PM)

**A/N:** The cravings are a monster, they really are. ROFL. Thanks for the support, guys. Seriously.

Now have another chapter. Family themed this time. :D

* * *

 **November 6  
** **7:26 P.M.**

Nia's weight gain over the last two months hadn't gone unnoticed by Raphael. He felt the increase whenever he hugged or lifted her. Her breasts had inflated from an A-Cup to a C-Cup while her stomach protruded as if she stored a cantaloupe under her shirt. Granted that Raph found the curves sexy, they were also a big tease.

Nia wouldn't let him touch her. Not in _that_ way.

The denial, while understandable, was irksome. He had all this emotion bottled and it longed to be expressed. How else could he prove his ever-increasing attraction? His craving for intimacy over the little lives they created together? That she didn't need to fear him finding her fat and marred? Or that he couldn't handle her roller coaster moods?

With words?

As if. He sucked with those. Forget that his alone time with her had decreased since they moved back into the Anders' townhouse. He could catch her during early mornings. Sometimes. Most evenings, though, were spent in the living room. Around the coffee table. Playing board games at Mia's persistence.

"Hey, Raph the Grouch," Mia said from her wheelchair. She twirled the numbered spinner on the colorful 'Game of LIFE' board. "Tonight's a work night, isn't it?"

The mutant sunk further down the sofa cushion and averted his eyes from the two figurines Nia's red van had acquired not one turn ago. "Yeah. We got anoddah supply shipment in. Don's hopin' we can start work on the bedrooms next."

"Get your computer repaired," Sophia interjected. She sent a wide smile Mia's way then held out a hand. "That's me, Furba. Give me the cash."

"Just you wait, Honey. You'll land on a few more art donations. I feel it."

"Still can't believe Mama wound up with the artist career," Nia said, arms folded atop her round belly.

"But a cop fits you so well, Calza," Sophia countered.

The real artist stuck out her tongue when Pink laughed and Raph noticed Gavin's lips quirk upwards from the chair beside Mia. Was that a semi-smile? He could do that?

Mia shook her head before gesturing towards the chubby blonde at her other side. "Your go, Adeline."

"I'm leaving you all in the dust!" Adeline explained like some mad scientist. She turned the spinner, which ticked repetitively as Mia's attention found Raphael.

"I can't wait to see the place all fixed up. Donatello's been sending me pictures, but he says they don't quite capture its size."

"There ain't a lot light 'round there," Raph added. "Did that on purpose. It's a secluded area, overgrown. Hidden."

Adeline, pucker-faced, handed over a blue bill to Nia after having spun a ten and then moved her white van further down the windy road. "This is the water treatment plant you guys mentioned?"

"Yeah," answered Nia in her husband's stead. "I—it hadn't been used since the early nineteen hundreds and it's open-plan. Mostly. So the guys have been able to maneuver rooms around pretty easy."

"Easy?" Raph grimaced. "We spent forever guttin' an' cleanin' that place."

"I've helped! It's just…gotten harder recently."

"You shouldn't over-exert yourself," Gavin said. Dead was his humor, his usual stoic stare replacing it. "The fetuses are expanding, so they're pressing more than your bladder now. Your stomach and lugs need cared for as well."

"My heartburn's been fine, Daddy."

"But you have been losing your breath."

Nia sighed.

"So"—Mia watched Sophia reach for the spinner then glanced up for a second—"what made you decide to renovate a building instead of continuing to look underground?"

That woman loved to pry, didn't she?

Raphael crossed his arms and scooted closer to Nia, saying, "We can only go down so far. It's easier ta build up. Our clan's expandin' an' who knows when it'll stop? Besides…"

Nia felt better while Topside. She didn't say so as often as last year, claiming her claustrophobia was cured. But it still affected her mood and health. Raph could tell in the ways she handled little matters, like reading or drawing. She felt suffocated away from the sky, from the air and moon. Maybe that freedom was something all Languu ached for…

"Genio claims it isn't something that can be easily targeted, at least," said Sophia after moving her yellow van.

"Yeah," Raph added, "his Cloaking technology will help wit' that."

"So it'll hide you?"

The mutant nodded under Adeline's frosty blue eyes. "From view an' when he works out more bugs, from radar as well."

"But do you think it'll be finished before the twins arrive?" Mia's gaze fell on Raphael, heavier than any bolder. A test? So be it.

Raph squared his shoulders, a show for both Mia and Gavin. "We ain't got a clue when the babies will come. Not even an estimate. But I'll work hard ta make sure they got a safe, dry, clean place ta sleep before then."

If they made it full-term, that is. Yet no one wanted to make mention of such a painful point.

Mia's hard look melted into a smile, which she flashed across the group. "Very good, Raph. We should host a baby shower before then, too."

"Inspired by Marina's?" asked Adeline with a loud laugh.

Mia nodded. "That was hilarious fun. Hugh…He picked good. I'm happy for him. Like I'm happy for Ni."

Mother and daughter shared a simple, kind smile—one which swelled Raphael's chest with joy.

Mia accepted that her daughter chose a mutant as a mate and that she carried Raph's children. Instead of disgust or annoyance, the mother expressed excitement. She wanted to be a grandmother. She wanted the twins alive and healthy. She wanted Raph and Nia to have their family.

That relief alone left the mutant speechless.

"Ma—Marina didn't find the party very relaxing," Nia said. "Her Braxton-Hicks Contractions were driving her insane."

"She's ready to pop," Adeline noted. Did she even notice she was almost yelling? "Poor girl. She's larger than I ever was with my girls."

"As big as a blimp." Mia shook her head. "Her due date's soon. Guess we'll see how cooperative Tobias will be over the next week."

"Oh!" Nia jolted. Wide-eyed, she cupped her swollen stomach, starring at it. "Wh—what was that?"

"Ya alright?" Raph couldn't keep urgency from his tone, so he let his hand join Nia's.

"I—I hope. Daddy"—Nia's voice hitched as the lights dimmed—"what do spasms mean?"

The redhead blinked behind his rounded glasses. "Spasms?"

"You deaf, Quattr'occhi?" Sophia yelled. At least someone voiced what Raph wanted to say.

"Do you mean like little flutters?" Everyone faced Adeline, whose smile widened when Nia nodded. "Those are blips, Nia. You're twins are hiccupping."

Raphael drew his eye ridges together. "They can hiccup?"

"It's practice for when they nurse. Kind of tickles, doesn't it?"

"Sort've." The dark-haired artist gave into a relieved laugh and leaned back in the sofa, rubbing her stomach. "So this is normal?"

"Yes. They're fine."

"Glad you're here, Adeline," said Mia in a low voice. "I didn't get to experience that…"

"If you ask me, it seems creepy," Sophia added. One of her eyes squinted, perhaps her attempt to keep from shivering, and she sent a quick look at her game piece stopped on a bridge. She had gained three children since Life started, all of which she had grumbled at before placing the 'people' pegs inside the slots. "Something wiggling inside you? Growing and stuff?"

"It's a gift," Mia countered. "A gift I was denied. You may feel that way now, Sophia. But wait. The first child you have with Michelangelo, it'll change your perspective."

"What if I _can't_ give him a child?" the freckled blonde shot back.

"Time will tell."

"Si. Later, Furba. Years and years later…I'm getting a beer."

The blonde stood then exited the living room, leaving a heavy air behind. The game continued in her absence, but Raphael was too distracted by his thoughts to consider Nia's advancement.

' _I hope Mike can stand ta wait. An' that Pink comes around. He wants a family later on, so…_ ' Raph's fingers slipped off Nia's round belly when she leaned forward. ' _She beddah not deny him forever. He needs ta go through this same shit. Then he'll really know what it's like ta be both petrified an' ecstatic at the same time._ '

It really was an odd feeling...

* * *

 **A/N:** I think Sophia saw what I had in mind for her character, promptly said EFF YOU, then decided to be the complete opposite out of spite. Guess kids will be yet another unplanned hurdle that couple will have to jump together. I give the 'sweet' duo of the brothers the hardest women to deal with, I swear. PFFT. O


	16. November 19 (9:43 PM)

**A/N:** Yeah, Sophia is one of my problem children. LOL. I let her be, though, since I know not all women like the idea of pregnancy. XD

Now we get to a chapter I've been itching to release. Time to meet Tobias!

* * *

 **November 19  
** **9:43 P.M.**

The group of eleven fit tightly inside Hugh's townhouse living room, but Michelangelo thought it bearable. The reward was too good to pass up. So he ignored the looks Marina and April sent from the sofa, laser focus set dead on the tanned infant swaddled in his mother's arms.

"Hi, Tobias. I'm your Uncle Mikey!"

"Not so loud, Doofus," Donatello said when the one-day-old twitched. He stood close by, though, just as curious yet not wanting to admit it.

"Do"—Marina hesitated with parted lips—"do you want to hold him?"

The youngest Hamato brother sprung up. "Pick me! Me! Me, please!" He gagged when a force pulled his carapace backwards, bending him so he saw Hugh's upside-down scowl.

"Not until you calm down," the detective said. "She was talking to Don."

"Aww."

"Me?" The genius waved his hands. "I—I—I've never—I mean—"

Hugh released Michelangelo then flashed a smirk. "You're gunna have a couple of nieces or nephews here soon. Consider it practice."

"Besides, you can handle delicate things, remember?" asked April with a wink.

Don sent her a glare that cried betrayal, yet a chuckle from one of the two armchairs soon brought his attention to Splinter.

"Go on, my son," the master said. "Holding an infant is good for one's soul."

Don gulped, but nodded before situating himself beside Marina. He took Tobias into his long arms as Michelangelo sent his father a pout.

"Why does Donny go first?" he asked.

"Keep up the antics and Raph will hold him before you do," Hugh interjected.

"What?" Mikey turned towards the couple in the second armchair, particularly to the red-masked Chūnin who about choked at the idea. "Get in line, Buddy."

"Have at it," Raphael said, squeezing the artist in his lap.

Nia rubbed his shoulder and let him hide his expression between her breasts. So what if he acted like he didn't care? Mikey still knew the hothead was more terrified than Donny looked.

' _Well, he's gotta get used to it. I just won't let him hold Tobias before me. I called dibs long ago and now Don's going first. Jerk._ '

He didn't mean it—not really. The childish pout was more of an act to show the others how much this chance meant to him. The most impactful thing a person can do is mold the future, and children were the future.

Mikey never forgot that.

"He—hello, Tobias," Don said to the infant. Although stiff, he smiled, a dorky action enhanced by his gap-teeth. "You're sleeping like a log, aren't cha?"

"Newborns tend to sleep up to eighteen hours a day," Melody added, matter-of-fact. "Bottle-fed, they wake maybe every three to four hours. More often if they're breastfed. But, regardless of what she chose, Marina fed him soon before we arrived. He shouldn't be fussy."

Mikey chuckled as he leaned an elbow on Hugh's shoulder. "Melody: our walking medical textbook. Gotta love it, eh?"

"That doesn't grantee anything, Mel," Donny muttered. His eyes widened when Tobias squirmed—tense from head to toe—but other than a high whine, the infant remained still.

"Marina-san," Splinter said when his genius son heaved a sigh, "we are honored to have been invited over for such an occasion."

The tan woman ran a hand through the curly hair that frizzed around her head like a halo of scribbles. "Jen and her family got to see him yesterday. April, too. So, considering how close we've grown over the months…I thought you may want to see him as well."

"You thought right," Mikey said with a broad smile. "I love kids and this is the perfect chance for Hoshi to get used to them. Right?"

The pink-and-black clad blonde (who leaned against the doorway to the kitchen) returned her boyfriend's hopeful gaze by grimacing. "It's not that I hate kids, Figo," she said. "We just disagree. A lot."

"Toby may be different. Why not try?"

"Tell you what: if Sorriso holds him, so will I."

Boom; instant glaring battle. Mikey glanced between Sophia and Melody, a cyborg who obviously didn't appreciate being thrown under the bus. What was with these ladies? Tobias was just a little person!

"Mel-anechan"—Nia's small voice broke through the tension—"are you scared?"

Melody flinched, gaze lowering to her hands. "It's just that…metal is hardly comforting for a child."

"It's comfort enough for me," Donatello added. Perhaps he hadn't meant to say that out loud; his face flushed a dark yellow-green, his hold on Tobias shaking. "Uh, why not take him anyway? He's swaddled. Besides, we're going to deliver Nia's twins, aren't we?"

Melody, above anyone, was powerless against logic, so she claimed the bundle her husband offered, mindful of his head. She kept quiet while situating him in her metallic arms, but despite the offhanded nature, Mikey could tell she studied him as eagerly as he wanted to. Her blue-gray eye darted across the infant's features too much to insinuate otherwise.

"See? It's not so bad," Mikey told her.

Melody ignored him then landed her gaze on Sophia.

The blonde pushed herself off the wooden frame. "Sul serio?"

Her up-turned nose flared, but Michelangelo approached her with outspread arms. "You made the deal, Hoshi," he sang while hugging her.

"I hate you," she grumbled into his plastron.

"Hence why we date. Now, come on; get to it." He urged her (pushed, really) towards Tobias. He could swear Melody smiled while transferring the baby to the much shorter female, and Marina shifted on the sofa. Mikey sent the new mother a quirked grin. "They'll be okay. I'll guide her."

Sophia moved like a Barbie doll, fighting her boyfriend's lead. A good minute passed before she let the mutant's arms fold hers under the newborn. Tobias' wrapped head nestled in the crook of her elbow, a sensation Mikey adored.

He rested his chin atop Sophia's ponytail and peered down at the frail being whose face squinted. The tan skin around his button nose wrinkled. Then, his eyes fluttered opened. They were dark, tapered to a prominent point at the corners, and yet large and shiny like polished Onyx.

"Hey, you." Mikey fought for air; the infant stared upwards in complete trust and acceptance. "Get used to this face. You'll be seeing it a lot."

"What'd I say?" Hugh asked Marina. "With a stick."

"Actually, Michelangelo," Melody butted in, "he cannot see you. Not in the way we do. An infant's sight is poor, so they rely more on their sense of feeling and hearing. That is why it is so comforting for them to sleep on their mother."

Mikey leaned closer to Tobias, who gurgled. "Then get used to this voice. You'll be hearing it a lot."

"Ain't that the truth," added Raphael.

"You wanna go, Raphy Boy?"

The hothead froze in the armchair. "Th—that's alright," he said more towards Nia's collarbone than his youngest brother. "Let Sensei go before me."

"What?" Hugh bent one knee, leaning backwards as if he had just sustained a blow to the face. "My kid not _cool_ enough to fight over? Is that it? He's a possible future son-in-law, you know, if ya have a daughter."

The hothead's eyes flashed. It likely wasn't meant to be threatening, but that's what it came off as. So Hugh backed up under such intense amber.

"I'm messing with ya, Dude," he said.

Raph looked down at his wife's striped tights. "I know. Sorry, Man, I just…"

"Let Raphael gather himself," Splinter said. His paws reached for Mikey and Sophia. Hoshi seemed eager to disrupt the hold she shared with the orange-masked Chūnin, which broke his heart a little.

' _I hope she changes her mind later,_ ' he thought as the awkward blonde carried her load to his father. ' _One day…I'd love to be in the same position Raph's in…_ '

"What a beautiful boy, Hugh-san." Whiskers twitching, the wizened rat lifted the child, gaze unreadable. Was he imagining what it would be like to hold his own grandchild? Or was he elated that he could manage the weight without pain? Maybe it was a mix. "You are blessed, young Tobias. You have a mother who has eagerly awaited your arrival and a father who is willing to sacrifice anything for your sake."

"And a clan who will protect you as one of their own," added Mikey.

His firm belief—and perhaps even the uniform nods around the living room—brought tears to Marina's eyes. They didn't flow from sadness. If they had, she wouldn't have smiled. So the mutant joined Hugh in hugging her and let her cry.

After all, that's what you do for family.

* * *

 **A/N:** I loved writing this chapter. Little Tobias is going to be fun. :D


	17. November 23 (3:38 AM)

**A/N:** Oh, yes, _D_. Mike would be over the moon, but still go back and fourth between assured and scared. Kids are major changes/additions, no matter how much you look forward to them. :D

Gah. So much in store with these kiddies. Why, Muse? I haven't even gotten to " _The Distance_ " yet. *flops on floor* Meh.

Meanwhile, have more scared first parent fluff. xD

* * *

 **November 23  
** **3:38 A.M.**

Damn his eye. Raphael hated it—almost enough to wish it no longer existed. Eye drops eased the sting for a time, but it always returned. Usually, late at night. Like now. So he rubbed it, wandering downstairs to look for the young woman who hadn't been at his side when he awoke.

He found her at the kitchen island, stuffing a wad of leftover mashed-potatoes into her mouth like her life depended on it. She didn't chew, just swallowed, and continued to stare at a paper. The sonogram of their twins, to be more precise.

"Didn't get enough at Thanksgiving?" he asked.

Nia set the sonogram on the granite top then scooped more potatoes from a clear container. When Raph sat at the barstool beside her, she looked at him then stuffed that wad in her mouth as well.

"Thought ya hated mashed-potatoes," Raph said, placing his palm against his cheek.

Nia gulped down the food. "I do; their texture makes me gag."

"So…why ya eatin' 'em?"

"Because I'm craving them." She looked pained to admit it and after a sigh, her forehead met the granite. "Whatever the kids want."

"Already givin' ya trouble."

"Blah. You already know by now; I woke up because I had to pee. And throw up. Again. It's amazing I'm gaining weight at all."

"Ya are."

Nia's head twisted, so her glare peered up from the island's top.

"Not that it's a bad thing. Yer boobs have gotten bigger."

"They're achy!"

"Which is why ya haven't let me touch 'em in a while," Raph grumbled.

"What was that?"

The Chūnin met his wife's stare with a smile. "Nothing. Now are ya gunna tell me what's really keepin' ya up? Or would ya rather choke down more potatoes."

Nia gave the container a hard stare then capped it, shooting it Raph's way. "They've had enough."

"An' ya?"

"Ugh." The young woman drew in air, raking her fingers through her shoulder-length hair like tugging it would keep her focused. "I can't stop thinking about Tobias."

"Ya were all about him when Hugh visited today. Well, yesterday."

"It just…" Her head fell. "Ever since we met him, the reality's settled in a little further, ya know?"

Raph did, so without asking for clarification, the mutant placed an arm over the mashed-potato container. "In a few months we'll have one 'a those. Two, actually."

"Are you still scared?"

Raphael tensed at Nia's whisper. Fuck yeah, he was. He would deny it, too, if it weren't for her empathetic nature.

"I'm sure ya felt it when Sensei handed him over, Ni."

"Did you feel like you were going to break him?"

"Worse. Make him cry."

"Crying is worse?" Nia lifted her head to rest it in her crossed arms on the island, mismatched eyes wide.

"Yeah," Raph answered. He hated feeling raw, like he had no cover, and his wife excelled in that field. At least her gaze no longer unnerved him; it just made him face the fact that with this one person, he had no choice except to be honest. "It sickens me. I've made others cry before just wit' the way I look. Sometimes act. What if our kids are…scared 'a me?"

"Why would they be scared? Raph, you'll do the opposite. I know it."

"How can ya be sure?"

"Did Tobias cry?"

No; the doe-eyed infant had spit up on him like he would on any other person.

"See?" Nia reached for Raph's hand, gripping it with clammy fingers. "You're already off to a promising start."

"Our kids might be different."

"Doubt it. Th—there's too much love growing in this clan to even _think_ about being scared."

"I lose my temper." Raphael's eyes locked on the Yin-Yang wedding bands that touched. "What if…what if that's too much? I—if they aren't scared as babies, what if…they become scared 'a me later? O—or hate me?"

Now he understood where Hugh was coming from…

"You have every chance of being hated as I do," Nia replied, gentle. Her pale fingers interlaced with her husband's green ones, a strained smile on her lips. "Can we make a pact then?"

"What kind?"

"That if either of us is hated in the future, we would've done our best and still support the other. No matter what."

Raph shook his head. How could she make something heavy sound easy? His fingers tightened around hers. Fear kept her awake too; she was just trying to be strong.

So he returned her smile. "Deal. But ya got a better chance."

"Y—you think?" Nia laughed, although something felt off when her fingers trembled. "A—A temper is one thing. Me?"

The light above the electric stove flickered.

"I—I gotta think about keeping balanced. If I lose myself, I could hurt our babies. Th—they're small and fragile enough, li—like a light. What if they burn out like those do?"

"Oh, God, Ni." The mutant gathered his wife in his arms. She shook from fighting the anxiety, but he encouraged her to release it by rubbing her back through her nightgown. "I'm sorry, I…I never wanted ya ta…"

Nia sniffled against his shoulder. "One of us has to keep positive. Th—that's hard. It's so hard at times, I—I just…"

"Ya had a nightmare, didn't ya?"

She needn't confirm; her trembles spoke volumes.

"Alright"—Raph's voice steeled—"new idea: we'll both think positive. That's all we can do. As parents, that's…all we can do. Agreed?"

Now Nia nodded, albeit with effort. Raph hoped she would smile. Instead, she pulled back as if bitten. His eye ridges furrowed as her hands checked her stomach and the alarm tightened his chest.

"Wh—what's wrong, Ni?"

"One of the babies just kicked," she replied, breathless. "Or…maybe both of them. Mel said it would be like the hiccups, except stronger."

"I thought we weren't supposed ta feel that until next month."

"We?"

Raphael pressed his lips. "Ya know what I mean."

"Well, the babies don't care about estimates. Feel."

The Chūnin complied. He forced himself to ignore how high his wife hiked up her nightgown in favor of focusing on her baby bump that somehow didn't stop her from wearing tights. He waited patiently for what had she meant, but no movement happened below the warmth of her stretched skin.

"Yo—you don't feel the twitches?" Nia asked. Her happy expression fell, just like Raph's stomach.

"Guess they gotta get bigger," he replied.

"I wanted you to feel."

"Come on; don't cry."

"But they're _moving_!"

"I believe ya." Gathering the sniffling artist, Raph rocked her where they stood in the kitchen. "If ya say they're movin' then they're alright. That's good enough for me."

"But—"

Raph tightened his hold and set his sight on the twin's sonogram. "We still got a ways ta go, alright? I'll feel 'em move, one way or anoddah…"


	18. December 3 (901 PM)

**A/N:** Little shorter than most. But, yeah. We're a little over halfway through now. :)

Gosh, _ZathuraRoy_ , Daddy!Raph is going to ADORE them, even if he's awkward at the start. ROFL

* * *

 **December 3  
** **9:01 P.M.**

Nia hated exercises. Always had. Still did. Unfortunately, they were necessary to decrease leg cramps and back spasms. So, she sucked in some air, one hand cupped around the bottom of her pop belly and the other overstretched above her head. She leaned sideways, extending her side as her toes curled against her other leg's inner thigh.

Yup, she despised the whole pose.

"Stretch it, Ni!"

Nia glared at Raphael, who sat like a king amidst the pillows on their bed. "Quiet, peanut gallery."

The mutant's head rolled against the propped pillow behind him. "What? I'm rootin' for ya. Haven't seen ya do this much yoga in…ever."

"I hate this. Wish I could do my usual stretches, but no-oh"—the young woman blanched as she reached the opposite way—"turns out I can't lie on my back anymore. Bad for the babies. Don't pinch the Vena Cava, whatever."

"Rawr," Raph said with a chuckle. "Least ya've always slept on yer side. Kind'a wish ya liked facin' away from me instead 'a towards, though. The bigger those kids get, the more space will be between us."

"So?"

"Ain't it bad enough ya won't let me touch ya anymore?"

Her husband sounded more like a pouting child than an adult asking a serious question. But it still jabbed guilt through her stomach—an organ which was becoming closer friends with her throat with every passing day. She pressed her lips together, eyes set on her extended bare foot, and then switched her leg positions.

"Di—did Donny-niichan tell you we might be able to determine the babies' genders next week?" she asked.

Raphael sighed and flexed his arms. "Yeah, he called."

"You excited?"

"I guess."

"What, uh, what are you hoping for?"

"Two kids?"

The artist met the mutant's smirk with a flat look. "I'm being serious. We've sorta talked about it, but I really wanna know. Would you want sons…or daughters? Or a mix?"

"Are they a bag 'a Chex?"

"Like the one you're trying to hide?"

"I ain't got no Chex."

"Super smell, Raph. Still got it. It's beside you. I want some when I'm done."

"Geez," Raph grumbled. A crunch sounded then chewing. "Nothin' I got is safe, is it?"

"Who's fault is it that I'm in this position?"

"Which particular one?"

Nia's lips puckered. "These twins are yours. Least you can do is share food."

"That'd be easier if ya didn't eat everythin' in si—" Raph cut himself short when his wife reached towards the ceiling, her stare hard. "Fine. Finish yer stretches then ya can have some. If the bag makes it that long."

It was as good as any deal, so Nia nodded and pushed away the salty lure from her mind. "Now, boys or girls?"

"So long as the kids are healthy, I dun't mind."

"You have to have thought about this."

"And?"

"I'm leaning towards girls."

"Got somethin' against guys?"

"Yeah. There's way too much testosterone around here. We need more estrogen to mellow it out."

"Dun't ya got enough estrogen ta mellow it out already?"

Nia stretched both legs, eyes raised towards the oaf she called a mate. "I'm not crying every five seconds. Anymore."

"Still moody…"

"Only when ya push me. What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

A lie. Obvious even if Nia lacked her empathetic ability.

"What do you think of the name Kayne?" Nia asked while leaning forward. Her fingers never reached her toes. Then again, they never could. "Or Benedict?"

"Please tell me those are a joke," Raph replied, snorting. "Thought ya said ya expected girls anyway."

"Doesn't mean I can't consider sons. So, thoughts?"

"Hate 'em both."

"What do you suggest then?"

"There are a lot. I—I don't really have an opinion." Another lie.

"Twenty-four years and you've _never_ thought about at least _one_ name for a kid?"

Raphael tensed under Nia's smile. "Wh—why would I? We never knew this could happen."

"That isn't what I asked."

Silence filled the loft bedroom. Then, the mutant sighed.

"Keitaro," he said.

"That's pretty," Nia replied. "Japanese?"

"Yeah. Means 'blessed'. Figured if I had a son that…that's what he'd be. Blessed."

"I like it. Better than Kayne."

"Way better than Benedict."

"There's a great actor named Benedict."

"An' he ain't my son."

Nia snort-laughed. "What about a girl name?"

"Never really imagined myself wit' a girl…"

Which meant he did imagine he had a son before. Nia let the topic slide, though, and aligned the soles of her feet with each other, saying,

"Ever since I was a kid, I loved the name Selene."

"Greek goodness 'a the moon."

"Call it cliché, but I'm a night owl. I love being high in the moonlight. It's serene. That's why our rooftop dates were always enough for me."

"Will ya tell that ta Mike? He won't believe me."

"Sure." Nia smiled. "We're gunna have to pick our more names soon, you know? I don't want them named Thing One and Thing Two when they do arrive."

"Alright. I'll think more about it. Want help gettin' up?"

Nodding, Nia unfolded her legs as her husband approached. His strong hands wrapped around hers then lifted her from the floor in a single motion that made her stumbled towards Raph's plastron. He paused with her in his arms, not stopped by her wobbly legs but by her scent.

She heard him sniff her hair, lick his lips—a slow, alluring action. His hands ached to roam like months prior, she sensed it. And he had been so patient with her sore, lethargic state that the pent up passion in his touch kept her glued in place.

' _Guess my boobs don't hurt as bad anymore_ ,' she thought, thumbing the top edge of his pectoral scutes. ' _He's put up with me this long and…I do miss his muscles_.'

"Ni," Raph whispered into his wife's ear. The husky lull made her shudder as his hands worked their way around her thick waist.

"I—I know," Nia replied. She tilted her head to accommodate his first kiss, which he always placed against her plasma burn. "So long as you don't mind a fat girl with horrible stretch marks…it's fine."

"As if." His warm, moist lips met the young woman's burn then her earlobe. "No matter how round or scarred ya get, ya'll always be beautiful. An' I'll always want ya."

"Y—yeah?"

"Want me ta prove it?"

She sort've did. So, wrapping her arms around Raphael's neck, Nia kissed the mutant and let his hands roam downwards.


	19. December 14 (136 PM)

**A/N:** Oh gosh, _Sciencegal_ , I laughed so hard at your comment. XD Yes. Yes, Raph did. And I agree, _Zathura_. If anything, romance is really important-so neither parent feels like the child(ren) is/are coming between them. :)

Now for some brother/sister fluff. :D

* * *

 **December 14  
** **1:36 P.M.**

Ever since Michelangelo learned that babies could hear inside the uterus, he'd taken to talking to Nia's bulbous stomach. Whenever they'd pass, he'd say high to all three people—his little nieces or nephews included. Really, he couldn't help himself.

Especially when his sister was having a bad day.

"Your mama looks tired," Mikey said. He sat by the entrainment center in April's living room, yet spoke so loud across the cluttered coffee table that Nia squirmed on the couch.

"Don't get them riled up again," she whined.

"I can't help it if they get excited. They like they're Uncle Mikey. Right, guys?"

Nia sighed, caressing her stomach that stretched her high-waist dress. "If I throw up, it's going to be on your half of the work."

"Not cool, Dudette!" The mutant hopped onto his knees. "We spent so much time on this storyboard. I inked all night!"

The artist sent him a dry look. "Frankly, My Dear, I don't give a damn."

"Hey, you can't use movie quotes to counter me. That's my shtick."

"Uh-huh." Nia sunk back in her seat. She looked paler than usual, so Mikey stood.

"Should I call Donny or Mel?" he asked.

"No. I'm fine."

"Doubt that."

"Well." She sighed. "These kids like to party on my bladder. I'm craving taquitos still, but every time I eat them, they come right back up. My back's killing me. My feet are starting to swell. I just feel exhausted and—I…"

"Growing babies is a tough job, Ni," Mikey said with a small smile. "I think you're doing great so far."

Burping, Nia leaned her head against the couch's backrest. "Thanks, Niichan."

"And yet I get the feeling there's something else bothering you."

"I don't know…"

"You aren't the only one with super senses. Come on. Tell me." The mutant rounded the coffee table to kneel beside his sister. She took up the furniture's length, but he let her know it was okay by stroking her hand.

The touch lured her gaze from her knees. She stared at Michelangelo with brown and teal eyes, which glistened under the dimmed lights.

"I—I don't want to upset you," she whispered.

"I'm a ninja. Think I can't handle it?"

"I'm just being emotional."

"No dice." Mikey's grip tightened around Nia's hand. "Keeping things buried is bad for you. And this time, you aren't the only one who feels the effects."

Nia glanced down instantly. Perhaps her babies had moved, to prove their uncle right. "I…can't sleep well. So, I end up just laying in bed…thinking."

"So your thoughts bother you?"

"Yeah."

"What kinda thoughts are ya having?"

The artist ignored the mutant's playful smirk, lips downturned. "Lately? About Leo."

Mikey swallowed. Hard. His stomach sank; however, he maintained a smile for his sister's sake. He said he could handle things, so he would, even after tears slipped down Nia's cheeks.

"I—I miss him," she continued.

"I do too," Mikey said through a tight throat.

"I—it isn't right. He should be here. For this. Them." Her free hand slid against her stomach. "New members are entering our clan and he…he's gone."

"Feels a little hollow, doesn't it?"

Nia nodded with a loud sniffle.

"I get ya. Unfortunately, that's…that's not our call."

"It's his. Which makes this worse."

"What do you mean?"

Breaking Mikey's hold, Nia brought her hands together, wringing them. "I—I was just beginning to know him before Black Lotus happened. I mean, Raph and I had barely started dating. He told me, not long after I started work at Warner-Frost, that I would—would always have a place with you.

"But wh—what if this isn't what he wanted? What if he never really liked the idea of me with Raph? And he comes back and decides you should never mess with humans again? Wh—wh—what if thinks these babies are a mistake?"

"No, Nia." Mikey paused when the young woman's tears broke into a sob and he captured her hands again. "Your babies are his family. Understand? No matter how broken he becomes, he'll never forsake them."

"You've read his letters," she cried. "We—we lost most of them in the collapse, but…I remember. He'd talk about plants and weather and lost time and detachment. He's…He could change by the time he comes back."

"We have to believe it'll be for the better when he does," Michelangelo said, firm. "If we lose faith, what losers would that make us? Yeah, we…we couldn't help him heal. We aren't at his side to watch him stumble and find his path again. But we can be there in spirit. Even though he didn't seem to care when he left, I let him know that…because he's my brother. I'll always have faith in him."

"Yo—you think he'd be alright with me as a sister?"

"He'll tell you as much when he returns."

"Why must the wait be so long?"

"Beats me." The orange-masked Chunin smiled. It was a taxing action he could only manage for several seconds. Then it fell, his gaze lowering from Nia's pained expression to her pregnant belly. "He'll love these little dudes or dudettes, Sis. Just like I do."

"I hope so…"

Shot nerves. Gosh, did they make Mikey tingly and tired. He could only imagine how heavy his sister felt. ' _We've worked enough on the comic._ _She needs rest._ '

Mikey could think of only one way to help. He resituated on the floor, so the base of his skull rested on the couch cushion. Nia stared blankly in return and he spoke towards her belly like an old friend,

"Wanna hear a story? I'm great at those. And I think your mama could use one." He glanced up, noted his sister's thankful nod, and then continued in a gentle voice, "Once, when your Uncle Leo and I were teens, we met a superhero named Nobody."


	20. December 25 (10:11 AM)

**A/N:** I also liked that episode, _D_. I know many were put off by the JLA "knock offs", but I enjoyed them. Hence why I kept Silver Sentry around, even if he's off living his own life for a bit. o

 _Zathura_...as soon as I feel confident enough to tackle PTSD in the spotlight. *daunted* " _The Distance_ " has been harder to start than any book I've written to-date... :/

* * *

 **December 25  
** **10:11 A.M.**

Almost five months, maybe a little more. That was the estimate Melody had given Gavin Anders before Christmas Day. During those months, Nia gained weight, yet her baby bump could be mistaken as a severe pop belly by most others. Not him, of course; although sometimes...it fooled him into believing the whole situation laid in their imaginations.

He needed proof, which Nia always supplied without hesitation. Mostly through sonograms, the last of which had been delivered no more than three days ago. He remembered her excitement because it hinted that the fetuses were likely female. They had no plastron—no visible one, anyhow—so Donatello felt adamant about their sexes

But little could be said with certainty.

Nia carried hybrids in her womb. A new race. According to science, they shouldn't be possible. Then again, that same science said Nia shouldn't be possible either. So what did science _really_ know? Here he stood in a townhouse filled with humans, a cyborg, mutants, and, yes, a half alien.

In fact, fuck science. It obviously played no role in reason anymore.

The redhead scoffed, noticing the lightness of his beer bottle. Had that been his fourth or seventh?

...Whatever; he'd get another.

Pushing off the wall, he ceased watching Splinter, April, and Donatello by the live Pine tree erected beside the living room's fireplace. He could hear their clamoring over how to arrange gifts and wondered why his daughter wasn't front-and-center of the task. She loved handing out presents, much like the loud one in orange, Michelangelo.

Adeline and Sophia kept the mutant busy with breakfast, though, so Gavin paused before entering the kitchen. Did he need another beer that badly? Those three were boisterous to the point where sneaking anything out required Guerilla tactics. Now, he _had_ missed the meals Mia's condition prevented her from cooking, which meant he was thankful more cooks lived close by.

But still. The effort…

"Oh, Daddy!"

Gavin blinked then glanced down at the pale girl who had almost run into his chest. "Nia. Where've you been?"

"Uh, well." Her hands fell to her belly, a notable bump beneath the snug Santa Claus jacket she wore. "All the food Mikey and company are making? Yeah, the twins don't agree with the smell."

"Have you been—"

Nia made a face. "Gargling, sipping lemon water, eating apples. Everything you and Mel-anechan agreed on. It helps my throat not hurt as badly, but it doesn't stop the nausea."

"It should've eased up by now."

"Ma—maybe it's an enhanced effect from a…hybrid pregnancy?" Shrugging, the young woman played with the fur along her jacket's hood. "Donny-niichan has another theory as well."

"The children could have a different blood type than you."

"Yup. Joy, huh?"

Nia laughed. It felt forced, though. And how could Gavin blame her? Insomnia lined her mismatched eyes with purple bags. She had to practically live beside a bathroom. Then, all the normal stress a first-time mother experienced was enhanced by the fact that these children were the first of their kind.

Who knew what would happen? If they would survive? Or if she would? Maybe the labor would go horribly wrong…

Raphael and Nia brought this on themselves. Technically, they should've been more careful in their activities—forget the chances. He hated the idea that Nia gave herself to anyone, let alone a mutant.

That said, his heart ached at her suffering. So he pulled her to his chest with one hand and kissed her forehead through her side-swept bangs.

"Wh—what's that for?" Nia asked. She didn't fight him.

"I can kick them out of me kitchen if you want."

"What? N—no! They're working so hard."

"If it makes you sick…"

"It's alright. I'm used to it. I"—tensing under her father's chin, Nia sighed—"I felt like this a lot when growing up, so…"

Did she? Gavin never sensed it. And when all he wanted was to be helpful…Figures. He never could save those who mattered, could he?

"Daddy, are you drinking?"

Gavin glanced at his beer bottle. "I ain't hammered."

"That's not the point." Nia pulled away, her brown and teal eyes wide. They reminded him of a little five-year-old, who used to watch in awe as he started campfires with something more than two sticks.

' _Wonder if those survival skills are still in there somewhere…_ '

"Daddy!"

Gavin blinked. "You do what you need, Ni. I'll do likewise."

"But…"

"You want me tolerable, or not?"

More sighing from Nia. Was beer such a bother? It was a celebratory day. Besides, Raphael had one earlier.

"You owe me a present."

Gavin pushed his round glassed further up his nose then regarded Nia's pout with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"I got some good things for my twenty-first birthday," the artist continued. "Like this." She held up her left hand, on which an ornamental ring displayed a polished Yin-Yang symbol at its center. A wedding band, Raphael claimed. While there were still no papers, Gavin let the matter slide when his daughter's hand lowered. "But you got me a massive sketchbook? Really?"

"You said you needed another," Gavin said, toneless.

"Yeah, but it—it's not a statue. It's not a _Daddy_ gift."

The redhead felt frozen in place under her glossy gaze. "You still want me to get those for you?"

"Well, yeah. It's a tradition. I—I look forward to it every year. Figured you just needed more time because of…everything. Then I asked April and she said you never brought it up."

"Thought you were over that part of your life."

"Why?"

The reason was too sentimental to face right now, so Gavin turned his head. If only his beer bottle could fill itself.

"Those statues are something only you and I share, Daddy," whispered Nia. Near tears, the soft tone almost wrenched the man's heart from his chest. "I get that you're the kind of person who needs someone's all or nothing. That's why Mama worked out so well for you. But normal people share each other. I've gotten better at that, and I want to keep our traditions alive."

"That so?" Gavin whispered in return. Really, it was the only articulate thing he could manage.

"I—I—I've been bullying Raph to find the others, too. From when the Lair…He's found some. They're sorta chipped, one's broken, but I'm being a little mean and pushing him to find the whole set."

"Raphael's digging through cement for them?"

"Him a—and Melody. Her strength comes in handy. I'd help, but…"

She rubbed her red and white belly, and Gavin knew just what the other Hamatos feared. "April and I must have a talk, it seems."

An instant smile lit up Nia's face, making it glow as she jumped up to kiss her father's cheek. She heard her name behind them, a cry from Donatello, so after a nod, she left Gavin to his original goal. He crossed the threshold, rounded the staircase, and then entered the kitchen.

It was a mad house. The blondes darted from one point to another, twirling Michelangelo with their haste, and the redhead grimaced. The fridge was nestled between the counters on the other side.

' _For the beer,_ ' he thought while cracking his neck.

He pushed up the sleeves of his dress shirt then floated through the cooking battlefield like a bobbing lure. Who knew he'd actually use the avoidance skills he gained from growing up with three siblings, two cousins, and an overbearing grandmother figure? Not him.

He smiled when he reached the fridge undetected then opened it. Knelt, he reached into the crisper for the monochromatic red cardboard container printed with the words 'Red Moon'. It was empty. But its twin in the second crisper was full, so he pulled one out from that, pausing only when he head Michelangelo speak.

"Dude, I may be confused, but I think we're making dinner too."

A scoff sounded; Raphael's scoff. "I'd rather be cookin' than deal wit' anoddah awkward conversation like I just had wit' Mia."

"Doesn't she want you calling her 'Mom'?"

"Ain't funny, Doofus. It's times like these where…where I wish Casey could help me out. It's the second Christmas wit'out him."

Michelangelo's tone lowered. "And our first without Leo…"

The conversation fell, just like that.

What a stark contrast from how people viewed absence in Gavin's Sect. They were gits, the lot of them…

Fuck.

Maybe the refrigerator's cool temperature jumbled the redhead's mind. Or maybe it rang because the Italians screamed across the kitchen. Guess in the end, reason didn't matter.

He picked up two more beers then rose. Wordless, he left them on the island beside the Hamatos before leaving. They damn well could use one…or seven.

* * *

 **A/N:** No, Gavin isn't familiar with the concept of sharing. So this is a big step for him. I acutally enjoy wiritng drunk Gavin because he's just like "Why the fuck not?" XD


	21. December 26 (12:54 AM)

**A/N:** Sorry, yall, I've been busy these last few days. We're almost near the end. This will be the last week. :)

FWI, the Shredder/Yoshi past is twisted from the 2k3 series and the 2k12 series...It's just how it fits in my head. *shrugs*

* * *

 **December 26  
** **12:54 A.M.**

While Leonardo's presents were not numerous, they had tied Splinter to the Anders' living room sofa all day. He was not the only unchanged thing, either. The Christmas tree remained upright, glistening with colorful lights, ornaments, streamers, and what little candy canes remained from Michelangelo's raid. They added an atmosphere to the few gifts left below it, their blue paper glittering with the light from the lit fireplace.

' _I wonder if Melody-chan can include a fireplace in the budget of our new home. They are quite comforting…_ '

"Splinter-san? Yo—you're still up?"

A smile at his snout, Splinter craned his head towards Nia, who peeked out from the living room's foyer entryway. "It seems so."

"Yo—your joints aren't bothering you, are they? Or your leg?"

"No need for fear, my daughter. My bones do not ail me. My…mind does."

"Would you…?" She paused with a hand on the wooden frame, red tights shifting below her comic-print nightgown.

He nodded. "I would welcome the company, Nia-chan. Some of our best talks have taken place at times like these."

The young woman grinned in a thankfulness that could be neither mistaken nor ignored—even at the outskirts of the fire's light. It warmed Splinter's heart as she approached to sit beside her father. She wasted no time in drawing up her legs into a more comfortable position.

She did such a lot nowadays, raised her legs. Said it helped with their swelling, a pregnancy trait which Splinter thought to be more prominent in later weeks. Then again, Nia's pregnancy was quite unconventional.

"Oh, gosh, this is getting harder," Nia said. Her back arched when she shifted again, her round belly expanded with frustration.

"Their development has advanced rapidly in the last month," he told her with a chuckle.

"I know; their growth has stolen from _my_ sleep. And yet I'm still not as big as most women with twins would be by now."

"You are not most women, Nia-chan. Besides, I thought size played no factor in their health."

"That's what my doctors say," Nia grumbled. With her legs finally tucked under her bulbous belly, she heaved a sigh. "They're smaller than human fetuses. They think the twins might weigh about three pounds each when the time comes. Th—that's like… preemie-sized."

"You fear they will not be strong enough?"

"They gotta be…" A soft rub led to Nia burping. It riled a sheepish smile and lent strength to her voice. "I—I'll keep talking about that with Mel. Now you…you're thinking about Leo-niichan, a—aren't you?"

Splinter shoulders hunched below his K'ekchi shawl. "I bet it shows on my face like an unspoken tale."

"And your Chi."

"You can read that." Gently, the mutant rat patted his daughter's shoulder. "You have come a long way, Nia-chan. Yes, I was reminiscing on my eldest. And I feel assured I was not the only who did so throughout the festivities."

"It was weird. Like some silent rule. We acknowledged he was gone, but…no one mentioned it."

"I…" Splinter sighed as his paw fell. "I could not bring myself to."

"Same here," whispered Nia. "Being busy helps. Normally. But when something comes up, like Thanksgiving or Christmas, the hole's gapping."

"Seems you understand me, my child. Call it the musings of an old father; I cannot help myself. I stare at these gifts. Realize their owner is not ready to return. So,I fall into memories."

"From past Christmases?"

"Hai. Our presents were never grandiose. There were few things I could salvage during my runs."

"Runs?"

"Times I chanced surfacing. My sons remained underground, so I could gather supplies. It was necessary, if nerve-wracking. I hated them being out of my sight."

"So…you'd gather stuff for food and warmth, yet still be on the lookout for gifts?"

"I had to. My sons deserved more than necessities, even if they were complacent about the limitations. Though, Raphael and Michelangelo had a tendency to whine about it from time to time."

Nia snorted. "I can see that."

"I distinctly remember our early Christmas mornings. The four were always up before me. Michelangelo and Raphael would fight Leonardo to get close to our scant tree. But he always stood firm. He told them it would be wrong to open presents without me. It would be unjust."

"Even back then he was big on fairness."

"His sense of justice and calm resolve are the leading reasons I anointed him Jonin. He has always looked out for others. Always protected them and made sure they followed guidelines. Order. His world was built around order. Perhaps rigidly so."

"And he came from a place where he had every reason to loathe humans…"

Splinter's ear twitched at Nia's faint voice. He faced her, although she stared at the Christmas tree.

"H—how'd you do it?" she asked.

"Do what, Nia-chan?"

The artist remained focused on the colorful tree lights. "Everything," she said softly. "You were a pet. And…your master was single?"

"Here, yes," Splinter answered, somewhat grave. "He had Tang Shen. In Japan. Before Oroku Saki's jealousy and power lust consumed him."

"Oh, right. Still, you were left without a family. Then one night, a freak accident happens. You became a parent. And raised four of the greatest people I know. Alone."

"Not entirely." Nia's head spun and Splinter returned her confused look with a smile. "I raised my sons through Master Yoshii's influence. The values he lived by, he exercised, were my cornerstones. While any kindness and love I learned from Tang Shen's compassion after she saved me. They helped me mold my children."

"It—it amazes me. You shouldered so much."

"A child's love lends great strength, Nia-chan. You will see."

"Well, thankfully, I have Raph, Mikey, and the others, too. Without talking with everyone, I don't think I could—I mean—it's…"

Splinter chuckled. "You find comfort in surrounding family."

"Y—yeah. I…I honestly don't think I could've been as definitive and strong as you, Splinter-san. I could never handle being a single parent."

"And so long as our clan has any say, you will never _be_ a single parent." Reaching for his daughter, Splinter captured her hand. He brought it to his knee and rubbed it with care. "That said, if the time ever came, I believe you could do it. You have a power inside, which rears when needs-be. Like when I was dying of cancer. In your younger years, did you ever expect you would willingly walk into a lab for tests?"

The human closed her mouth then shook her head.

"See? It is important to have faith in oneself as well as others."

"You're good at your job," Nia said while nudging the old master's shoulder. "I—I hope I uplift my kids like this."

"Much awaits them in the future."

"Tell me about it. They're coming into one crazy family."

"Who will treasure them more than life. Are you excited yet?"

"Sorta?"

Splinter raised a brow until Nia's sheepish grin fell.

"I go back and forth. Mainly I'm excited. And nervous. For the longest time it was just me, Mama, and Daddy. Since the whole"—she cringed—"Kingston/Bishop ordeal, I've gained so much. And I love it. I love the big, happy clan. Don't tell Raph, but…"

The rat watched Nia glanced around the dim living room before she leaned in close, whispering,

"I wouldn't mind having four kids. Like you."

Laughter erupted from Splinter's belly. Sudden, it forced Nia upright, so he sent her an apologetic grin when he regained his breath moments later. "Forgive me, Nia-chan. I am imagining Raphael with an army of children who are every bit like him."

"Would that be bad?"

"Of course not. It is just…a fun imagine."

"I haven't mentioned it yet for that reason. He can barely grasp the idea of two, let alone four. And who knows how these kids will turn out."

"Whatever number life graces you with, and regardless of their temperament, Raphael will support you."

"I know. Guess I'll have to be tactful in the meantime."

Nia flashed a smile. It was fun, loving, yet strong enough to capture Splinter. It stuck him with a realization: this young woman, once a broken girl, now carried his clan's future.

"So—something wrong, Splinter-san?" she asked.

"No," Splinter answered, shaking his head. "I had a thought."

"What kind?"

"When we first met, I gazed into the eyes of someone buried by fear, someone lost and plagued. I knew she needed guidance. And I had faith that she would grow, find purpose. But never would I have anticipated she would be the future carrier of my first grandchildren."

"Is it a happy twist?"

Splinter's smile grew as his paw stroked her cheek. "The happiest. What do you think?"

"I like where I'm at. The only thing more I could ask is not speculating but knowing I—I'll make a decent parent."

"You are surrounded by good role models, if I do say so myself. Your twins will love you. Both of you."

Nia's grin wavered and she shifted. Still, her feet never left the sofa. She leaned against the master's shoulder then started stroking her belly, glossy eyes set on the dancing flames.

"Can I stay here a while?" she asked. "My nausea is better when I'm sitting."

"Of course," Splinter told her.

And the two said nothing more until the fire died.


	22. January 6 (1:23 PM)

**A/N:** I apologize, guys. I really did mean to wrap this story up now, but...life. Got some free time now, though.

 _Zathura_ , relax. The home invading is done. ;D

 _D_. Leo...is a whole other issue. We'll see him in "The Distance." -

 _Sciencegal_ , hehehehehe. Kids. *Smiles*

 _Feather_ , you're back! :D Thanks for the reviews. They're always so up-lifiting and make me melt inside. So, thank you. And enjoy the rest of the story. :) (P.S. I didn't have plans for Nobody, but I may have to include him whenever I get back to Jamal/Silver Sentry. lol)

* * *

 **January 6  
** **1:23 P.M.**

April never thought this day would come. Sure, the clothes piled inside her shopping cart weren't for her child, per say, but she refused to let that small detail dampen her mood. She smiled at a cute onesie sized for a newborn and held it up for her company to see from their scattered positions across the department store's baby section.

"Oh my gosh!" Nia cried from somewhere unseen. "It has a tutu!"

Mia chuckled, rolling her wheelchair into April's view. "I love it. Ni used to wear things like that all the time."

"Thought she was a few years passed the onesie stage when you adopted her," Marina added. The Latina's curly hair could barely be spotted amidst the sea of colorful clothes racks. It was Adeline's five-foot-ten-inch figure that confirmed her location, since the blue-and-white clad blonde cooed at Tobias.

"Oh, she was, Marina," answered Mia across the aisles. "I meant the tutu. Nia wore them daily until she turned ten. Then her Converse became her trademark."

"So you've always been a quirky little thing," Adeline said with a snicker. "I haven't seen you in Converse much lately, though."

"Swelling, Ade-chan," replied the artist. She sounded closer, although April still couldn't spot her. "Can't fit in a size six anymore."

Adeline grinned over the clothes racks, her frosty eyes set on perhaps Nia. "There was that fun faze where you actually bothered with shoes. I always looked forward to which colors you'd leave the house with."

"I'd forget by the time I got to the second foot, okay?"

"Nothing wrong with it, Cara. For a while, I thought you mismatched on purpose. Like, it was a nod to your eyes or something."

Nia groaned.

"Luckily, I wear a size eight still," Mia interjected. "And I made sure her boots matched today."

"Thanks, Mama." Pucker-faced, Nia accepted the hand Mia extended and yawned while handing over a few clothes possibilities for evaluation.

"Still not sleeping well?" Marina asked. She walked up behind the mother and daughter then stood with her arms akimbo. Tobias gurgled in a baby carrier strapped across her chest, his round, dark eyes focused on the colorful attire Mia shifted through. At seven-weeks-old, he lacked proper strength to keep his head up, but darn if he didn't try.

Really; the boy was already growing up so much like Hugh.

"Dreams," Nia answered with another yawn. She shook her head then turned aside to look at more outfits as Marina continued,

"Know what that's like. They were the worst in my last trimester. Dreamed weird crap like Toby being eaten by sharks or coming out as an alien baby."

The artist flinched.

"The bad kind, Nia," Marina quickly added.

"No, you have a point," grumbled Nia. "We know next to nothing about the Languu. For all we know…they could be a race of murders…"

"Well"—Adeline's voice rocked the group like a gong—"you're not. That's what matters. My dreams were nothing of the sort when I was pregnant with Cosima. But Sophia?" The fair-haired woman wagged a meaty finger. "I knew she'd be a fighter from the start."

"Ye—yeah?"

Adeline nodded at Nia. "She always bossed around other kids. Never forgot that something was owed to her. Even her first word was rebellious. 'No.' To everything, even if she meant 'yes'. And if you couldn't tell the difference, she'd get upset."

"Such a stark contrast to Nia as a kid," said Mia, grinning. "My hardest time was coaxing her out of the closet to eat."

"Mama," Nia whined.

"But they both turned out to be good girls," added Adeline. "Sorry, _women_. I just wish Soph would get excited about trips like this for once."

"Yeah," Nia said. "It makes Mikey sad when she shuts down at the subject. She practically ran the other direction when we invited her out."

"Some have called it Pediaphobia, but"—Adeline took the clothes Mia deemed mediocre—"she's not scared _of_ kids. She's scared she'll _hurt_ them. She doesn't feel…soft enough, like she's a cactus. No good for them."

"Bet she and Raph could have a talk then," Nia said while dumping the acceptable clothes into the cart.

"Bet they could," Adeline replied with a snort. She hung up the rejected clothes in one spot then widened her smile. "She's not getting out of the baby shower, though. You're her to-be sister whenever one of them does pop the question. She's going."

"That should be a hoot," April said in an undertone.

The redhead could already picture the heroine sulking in a corner, awkwardly forced into games like 'Dirty Diaper' and 'Who Knows Mommy Best?' Mikey sure had his work cut out for him if he wanted to pursue a family.

' _And he still has a better chance than me at this rate. My buffoon of an ex isn't even in state and every guy I've dated since feels…wrong. When will I get to shop for my first born?_ '

"Oh my, what an adorable shirt!" A high, unfamiliar voice jerked April from her thoughts.

She blinked as a flash of yellow darted towards Nia then stopped. Some middle-aged brunette in a flannel-print shirt studied the pregnant artist and disregarded all the looks the other women dished out. Her fingers fluffed the sleeves that about sloped off Nia then brushed the sash below Nia's bust that accentuated her stomach with flowing fabric.

"It makes your belly look so cute," the stranger added. "How far along are you? Five? Six months?"

The stranger's palm landed on Nia's stomach, but Nia didn't let it sit there for long. Her hand Karate-chopped the women before April could blink. Startled, flannel lady stepped back, rubbing the wrist Nia had struck.

"Uh," she started, "s—sorry. My sister recently had a baby and…"

Nia continued her stare—an odd yet heated gesture.

"I, uh, I'll go. So—sorry again. For bothering you. Um, yeah."

April watched the stranger retreat through the clothes racks like a predator outmatched by its pray. Then, the whole group, sans Nia, burst into laughter.

"I—I didn't mean to hurt o—or freak her out!" The dark-haired woman cried. "She just—she didn't even ask. I—"

"No shame, Cara," Adeline said once she regained her breath. She straightened from Mia's wheelchair, which she had used as a brace, then shared smiles with both Mia and Marina. "It's normal to dislike others touching your belly, especially strangers."

"I like Raph touching it."

"Then he's your exception. Really, don't stress about it."

"I feel like a jerk, though."

"Don't." Marina rubbed her fingers over Tobias' tight curls then kissed his head when his lingering giggles turned into another laughing fit. "I had to beat off people with sticks to get them away from Toby in my uterus. It gets annoying. Fast."

"Desensitize yourself now, Cara; you look full-on pregnant."

"And just think"—April smirked—"normal women who have twins are way bigger than you."

"Small babies," Nia about muttered.

Right, that was a touchy subject. So April maintained her smirk, saying,

"Maybe all the hybrids will be born small, Ni. What have Melody, Don, LH, and I been telling you?"

"Their hearts are strong."

"And you still feel them move?"

"Yes."

"Then they're fine. Now," the redhead slipped an arm around Nia's to make her smile, "let's go stock up on some snacks. The guys have been working hard to make the new lair livable and they deserve a treat."


	23. January 11 (9:42 PM)

**A/N:** Wasn't sure if I was gunna include/finish this, but I guess I am now. Some Mike x Soph bonding. : 3

 _D_ , I'm the same way. I can't blame mothers for being annoyed, either. Nia thought she could be polite about it but...heh. Instinct. XD

 _Sciencegal_ , baby cuteness in general. Yush please. x3

* * *

 **January 11  
** **9:42 P.M.**

Michelangelo lay on his plastron. Not that the comfort of the full-size bed inside the Anders' second spare bedroom made any difference, he just found it easier to watch Sophia fold clothes from the mattress.

"Why don't you have more orange in your wardrobe, Hoshi?" he asked, chin stifled by the crossed arms he rested it on.

Sophia maintained momentum in her task and set a pile of shirts beside her boyfriend. "Can't help it, Figo. I'm a pink and black kind'a girl."

"You have more yellow than you do orange."

"Don't cry about it."

"I'm not crying. I just wanna see you in my color! Nia wears more red since she started dating Raph and Mel…Well, she doesn't really wear much. But when she does, it's purple-ish."

"Your point?"

With a pout, Mikey met the blonde's hazel eyes. "Don't you understand? It's a homage."

"That's overdramatic."

"You think? I don't."

"I know."

The Chūnin blanched. "Being real here, okay?"

Sophia giggled, but then returned to her laundry once she realized he wasn't kidding.

"Let me set things straight," Mikey continued as she started work on another pile, "I don't approve of men claiming women or whatever. Not as trophies. But I do believe when two people become a couple, they agree to a mutual surrender."

"Surrender?"

"Yeah. They give themselves to one another."

Hoshi quirked a brow, leading Mikey to snort.

"Not in _that_ way, Gutter Brain," he said. "I mean they basically claim each other as theirs. And there are physical signs to prove it. Rings. Bracelets. Even signature colors."

"So you feel like I'm denying our claim by not wearing orange?"

Wasn't that clear? What further explanation did the blonde need? She looked ready to shot back a smart remark from her thin lips. It was her instinct. Would a smile let her know the truth? Mikey tried it.

"Aspetta." Smirk falling, Hoshi sat back on her bare feet. "Really?"

"We aren't ready for rings, but…we are dating, aren't we?"

"It's just a color, Figo."

"It's a symbol. Nia _wants_ to wear red. What little opinion Mel _does_ have steers her towards purple. Why…why don't you like orange?"

"Just because I'm not parading around like a sun doesn't mean I hate orange. It's my second favorite color."

"Why don't you wear it then?"

"Non lo so."

Mikey groaned. "See? You ignoring my color makes me feel like you aren't as serious about me as my sisters are with my brothers."

"Right; we aren't married."

"Wearing my color would be a step towards that."

"Things like buying a house or planning a wedding should be considered steps, not clothes. That's on par with sex."

Michelangelo paused—a sudden action where his jaw physically dropped. "How on _Earth_ are those considered on par?"

"I take it you haven't slept with someone?"

"No! 'Course not! It's important to wait for the right person."

Sophia's smirk returned, strained though it may be. "Romanticism. That's so you."

"For your information, Romanticism has played a small role. Contrary to what you may believe, ladies haven't exactly been lining up for this green machine. Tragic, I know. April has always been an older sister, but she was cute. Knew then I was attracted to human girls. It wasn't until Christie, though, that I realized I wanted to find that special someone. Then Nia came along. You know how that went. Now there's you."

"And I do believe I'm a better fit."

"So what's stopping you from being serious? Or even talking to me about intimacy? I somehow get the feeling you aren't a virgin."

"I turned twenty-five, like, two weeks ago."

"And I'm turning twenty-five in two months. Age means nothing."

"If you were a normal guy, you wouldn't have been able to wait this long."

Frowning, Michelangelo pushed himself up into an Indian-style position, eyes narrowed at the blonde who piled several capris. "Hey, now. Even as a mutant, it hasn't been easy. If anything, it's been worse."

"Yeah…" Hoshi stopped mid-fold to send the mutant a glance. "Scusa."

"You're forgiven. But while we're at it, why not tell me who've you been with?"

"If this is some roundabout way to scan me for STDs—"

"It's not. I'm"—the mutant held his breath then released it—"curious. I deserve to know, right?"

"I guess," Hoshi said with a shrug. "My health's clean, by the way."

"Good to know."

"Let's see…Marco was my first and only, for a few years. Until I moved here."

"You've had other boyfriends?"

"One night stands. Once a year. Same day."

"That's oddly regular."

The blonde squeezed the shirt she had begun folding. "I needed it."

"Why?" Michelangelo watched Sophia's gripping fingers turn white. She avoided eye contact and her hands began shaking before she lowered the shirt into her lap.

"January eleventh," she whispered, "today, is the anniversary of Cosima's death."

Mikey felt his heart wrench. It was like heartburn timed a thousand, leaving him silent with pain.

"It's been over a decade," Sophia added, "but that day…I still _hear_ it, screams at the back of mind. I feel a chill in my blood, an iron taste in my nose. All I want is to be numb, so…I drink myself stupid and, well…"

"That's"—the Chūnin licked his lips—"that's destructive, Hoshi."

The blonde snorted. "I call it coping. It's what I do."

"Is that what you'll do tonight?"

Instantly, hazel eyes narrowed at Michelangelo on the bed. "Not funny, Figo. I—I may be recreational, but I'm not unfaithful."

"So how are you gunna handle yourself if you don't wanna be with me?"

"I _do_ what to be with you. That's the problem!"

"Ugh! You're making less sense than usual, Hoshi."

"Then listen!" Sophia paused, her glare unwavering. "Marco was my first. But I admit, I gave myself to him more for comfort than love. We…we were bonded by our mission. It was our purpose. And sometimes…we really needed the break."

"Does that mean your one night stands served the same purpose?"

"Yeah. It felt better with Marco. I'm realizing now, though, that I've moved passed that. Because…" The blonde's stare softened. "Because of you. Wh—when I give myself to you, it won't be a 'why not?' moment. It'll _mean_ something. Which scares me."

Mike forced a lopsided grin. "Guess I can be a little frightening."

"Seriously, Idiota! It's the weirdest thing I've ever felt. Even when we joke, it seems more real than what I had with Marco and I"—Soph groaned—"I don't know what to do with myself, okay?"

"You don't need to do anything special, Sophia," Michelangelo said, soft. He slipped off the bed, knelt before his girlfriend amidst the laundry, and although she hesitated and frowned, he wrapped her small body in his arms. "Just be yourself. That's the person I'm starting to fall in love with. That's—"

"Love?" Sophia's whisper barely reached the mutant's ear, but the obvious surprise in it left a smile on his face.

"Yes, love. I've been seeing new sides of you these past few months, Sophie, and it's not off-putting."

"Even the…kid thing?"

"Everyone had their own pace. Raph and Ni's just so happens to be fast. I want a family too, but…I can wait for when you're ready. We'll have Tobias around anyway. Then the twins an—"

Sophia began shaking. The quivers rattled Michelangelo more on the inside than out, and he tightened his grip around her to keep them both focused through their strained voices.

"I've waited this long for the right person, Soph; I can wait a while longer for the full life I want with her. Si—sincere things scare you since you don't want them ripped away. But know I'm here to hold your hand. I'm ready to help you through anything, so…we can go forward together."

A sniffle sounded in Mikey's ear. "This is nothing like what I—I had with Marco."

"That's kind of a relief."

"I'm—I'm sorry I give you so much trouble, Figo."

"Don't be." Lifting a hand, the mutant ran it over Soph's back. "Unless you plan on cheating on me toni—ow!"

Sophia pulled her fist away from Michelangelo's thigh. "If you don't want cheated on," she said with a small sniffle, "I suggest you stay here tonight."

"We'd have to convince your mom. You're sharing a bed with her."

"I'm sure she won't mind this one night. I…I doubt she'll sleep anyway. She never does."

"Maybe we should keep her company then. Wouldn't her children be more comforting than memories?"

Sophia pulled back to look up at her boyfriend. She met his smile, jaw slack, eyes glistening. Why the awe? Had Marco been too dense to suggest such a thing before?

' _He had her living life all wrong. But I guess it must've been all he knew…funny how that works._ '

"Come on," Mikey said while standing up, "clothes can wait for tomorrow."

"Aspetta!" Sophia cried.

The blonde glanced around the room, from the bed to the wood floor. She crawled towards an untouched section of laundry by the bedpost then pulled out something bright, something orange. She slipped it over her black tank top and when she turned, Mike noted the ornate skull print logo on its front.

"Baby steps," she whispered.

Michelangelo returned Soph's smirk with a smile then outstretched a hand that she accepted. "Seems orange is both our color."

"If you say so, Figo."

Smile growing, Mikey pulled the light young woman up. She practically floated towards him and he never let go, not even when she bumped into his plastron. Instead, he pulled her close, and without consent captured her in a deep kiss.

* * *

 **A/N:** These two have some heavy baggage, and while I didn't delve into it, it's important for them to take the first step into WANTING to unload that stuff on each other. I'll be having a Mike/Soph-centric mini-book in the future, after " _The Distance_ ", " _Zadir's Peace_ ", and " _Warriors_ ". So more information about the Sect of Moher and Christina will be revealed then. Sorry for the wait. My characters just have so many layers. XD


	24. January 18 (2:57 AM)

**A/N:** Five more chapters left. Then an epilogue. Almost there, guys!

 _Sciencegal_ , Mike is a TOTAL corn ball, so all my corny urges are channeled through him. He sees things in a unique way. :'D

 _D_ , yes, Mike is my corny escape. LOL I gotta ask, though: why are you reading my romance series if you don't like romance? Just curious because my romance especially has got some big corny moments. Romance is corn and fluff. Like popcorn. To me. o wo

* * *

 **January 18  
** **2:57 A.M.**

Pain tore through Nia's abdomen. It felt as if glass shards burrowed through it towards her spine, over and over. An endless cycle. Had she not been starring at her watermelon-sized stomach, she would've sworn someone stabbed it. But no one was there. Neither was there blood.

So she licked her dry lips for the umpteenth time then banged her head against the headrest of the birthing chair Melody had situated her in God knows how long ago. Why had the cyborg left? Where was Donny? And how come Raph wasn't in the room?

She didn't want to be alone. Her pain left her breathless, burning. It soaked her shaky body in sweat so thick that hair clung against her face like tentacles. Labored breaths made her swallow a few, yet such a minor annoyance paled when compared with the jab that struck her sides and vagina.

A scream sounded. It felt like it belonged to someone else, though. Nia's tight throat kept her from speaking, so…who had cried out?

The young woman pushed herself up in the chair, except her propped legs allowed little movement. What's worse, the cramps forced her back. Cursing, she wiped tears from her prickling eyes then tried again.

Someone approached from the doorway. Someone in a lab coat. He wasn't tall enough to be Donatello or wide enough to be Leatherhead. Maybe it was…

"Me—Melody?" Nia croaked.

"Disgusting thing…"

Nia stopped breathing.

No. It couldn't be. She was in the Lab, a safe house. Bishop wouldn't know to look here. How could he be at her feet, smiling in disgust? He smelled of rotten meat and lifted an arm.

"Both of you, disgusting," the agent added. His arm tossed something sideways.

Nia fought the urge to avert her eyes from Bishop's sunglasses, but the dark green blur near her chair…it called for attention. She glanced down, and the tears she had wiped away were replaced with fresh ones as bile rose in her throat.

"He always talked too much. Fixed that. Shot him right in the mouth, like I have always wanted."

Raphael's muscular form was contorted like a discarded ragdoll, his face a bloody hole. Burned. Blackened. Bubbled. A plasma gun had been responsible, she just knew it. He had no chance.

"I cannot fathom how such horrible things exist," Bishop continued. "You were useful, but the other? He is even worse."

Other. Who was that?

A sudden image struck Nia's mind. Hissing. An onion-like stench. Dark Chi. The color red. And…black eyes.

The eyes enraptured her. Their darkness overcame them entirely and bled out through bulging veins around them. They were pits that intended on drawing their enemies in close, so as to consume them.

Once, she had almost been consumed…

"First"—Bishop's hoarse tone shattered the memory—"a human bears _you_. Then you mate with this _creature_ and bear worse obscenities? Is there no end to the pervasion?" His head shook. "Forget it. You are unnatural. Monsters. Plagues. None of you should live."

"St—stop," Nia managed. She tried moving, except the pain and chair were too hindering. Her legs remained propped, her arms limp at her sides. And her heaves escalated into hyperventilation when Bishop raised a plasma rifle towards her stomach.

"All of you, disgusting."

"Do—don't!" Nia cried. "Please; th—they're my babies! Don't hurt them!"

The agent charged his weapon, his voice stone cold, "You were never meant to create life."

Then, the rifle fired.

.

* * *

"Kuso!" Raphael cried through the darkness. His toes curled in pain, having just struck some hard surface. Probably one of the many counter corners in the kitchen's second section. "Fuckin' Adeline an' her damn instance on more eatin' spaces!"

Weren't the two tables in the dining room enough? They seated almost ten people at each one. Why on Earth would they need additional space for seventeen people? Bull. Nineteen. There were also two bar stools at the counter section that 'wrapped up' the main kitchen.

"Why does she get a say in this place anyway?" the mutant asked, rubbing his tender foot. "Ain't like she's gunna live here…"

Right?

Naw. If Mike wanted Sophia to move in, it'd be just her and that damn ugly spider. The older loud-mouthed Italian could stay with Mia and Gavin.

Yeah, that sounded like a better plan.

"No, stop! Please!"

Shit.

Raph's foot met the ground in an instant. Before he could process the full distress in Nia's voice, he took off. He dashed through two entryways— pushing aside dining chairs and clipping his shoulder—then conquered a wide hallway that led passed the front door into the open living room. His gaze found the freestanding woodstove near the room's center and he skidded to a halt by the squirming figure bathed within its flickering light.

"Nia!" he called while capturing her wrists. She muttered in return, eyes wide yet unaware. "It's anoddah nightmare, Ni! Ya're alright!"

"This other is death," she whispered through short, erratic breaths. "He has no balance, no hope. H—he's death. He's…he's what I should be."

What the hell was she talking about?

Growling, the mutant pulled his wife up then cupped her face so she could look nowhere else. "Nia," he whispered, "please stop. This stress ain't good for our kids."

"Th—they're alive?"

Raph's heart sank at Nia's broken tone. "'A 'course. Ya've been takin' good care 'a 'em. Donny 'n Mel, too."

Nia blinked. When her eyes reopened, the vacant glaze over them faded. She looked up then let her forehead fall against his husband's plastron.

"I—I'm sorry," she said with a sniffle.

"Don't start that, Ni."

"But…I keep stressing you out."

"I'm always stressed." Raph wrapped an arm around Nia's shoulders, yet she remained silent. The Chūnin frowned, resting his wide chin atop her matted head. "Come on. There ain't much damage ya can do here like in Columbus. Our new place dun't even got workin' central heat yet. Ya forget why we're camped down here an' not in our new room? Although," he allowed himself to smirk, "we could make that hot."

"Stop it," Nia muttered. She hit him—a pitiful tap against his thigh.

"Seriously, Ni. We moved early for a reason. Ya need a place where if ya have a nightmare…it's alright. No angry neighbors are gunna come up complainin' about tripped circuits."

The young woman sighed.

"Ya…wanna talk about it?"

Nia brought her hands to his and kept her head ducked, silent.

"I—I get dreams where our girls grow up ta hate my guts," Raph said near an undertone. "Was it worse than that?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Can I…can I forget though? Please? I don't—I don't want to think about it right now. I don't—"

Raph's hand moved through Nia's wild hair. "If ya dun't wanna, dun't. Just know…I _can_ listen every once in a while."

"Thanks, Huǒ…" With a shuddering inhale, Nia straightened. It seemed so sudden, Raphael's breath hitched when her hands met her stomach. She paused then caught the mutant's arm. She guided it under her nightgown, eyes wide, and pressed his palm against her swollen belly.

"Do—doesn't that hurt?" Raph asked. It felt wrong. Wasn't he squishing his kids?

"Do you feel them?"

"Feel wh—?"

Thumps. Soft. Fleeting. They barely translated through the layers of fat and skin, but they were movements. His kids' movements.

"Was that…?"

Nia smiled at Raph's agape expression. "You felt them?"

He nodded. Now he understood how he could've missed the sensation months earlier when the twins were half their current size. They left him mystified, for sure. Still, relief outweighed even his love.

"Told ya they were okay, Ni."

"I know. I just," her hands gripped his tighter as her vision fell on her stomach, "I'd wither and die if anything happened to them…"

"You and me both," whispered Raph. "Trust me."

"I do." Gaze lifting, Nia drew a deep breath then released her husband. "I need a shower. I'm all sweaty."

"Lucky for us, Donny installed the hot water heater before we came."

"Us?"

"Think I won't ever take a shower?"

Nia blanched. "Yeah, because that's what you meant. But now that I'm thinking about it, a bath would be better. I'm so swollen from the boobs down, it's not even funny."

"I'll join ya."

"The tub isn't _that_ big."

"I didn't mean it like that. I'll sit on the toilet. Talk."

"I hate it when you force yourself to stay awake."

"Like ya haven't done the same for me. Besides, I can't fall asleep alone."

"You sure? I'm not in a mood to put out, my hemorrhoids are acting up, and I haven't shaved my lower half in literally over a month. I'm not a pretty sight."

Raphael laughed. No, it wasn't appropriate or controllable. And thankfully, he earned a playful shove in return.

"If you're gunna join, fine," Nia said. "Help me up the stairs and bring the blankets."

Raph stood to pull Nia off the living room floor. "Why the blankets?"

"I"—she glanced down—"I wanna be in the nursery. There's no heat, but…I'd rather sleep by the murals I painted for the twins."

It seemed like a good idea, actually. So Raphael gathered the blankets, just as asked, and followed his wife up the stairs.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ni has got some stressing dreams and memories. Damn, Bishop. D:

BTW. Yeah, that second hybrid will play a part. Like, decades later. And we'll be delving further into Nia's memories about October come " _Zadir's Peace_ ". Lingering effects from everything, gosh darn it. /can't be simple/


	25. January 30 (5:45 PM)

**A/N: Almost there! *waves pom poms***

 _D_ , by now I'm sure every one of my cast members-cannon and non-carry nightmares made of memories. /cruel/ XD Anyways, I'll count that as a plus in my favor then. I've been playing the balancing act since day one, so it's nice to hear/see that its paid off. :D

* * *

 **January 30  
** **5:45 P.M.**

Renovations were coming along so well, Mia could hardly believe it.

Outside, the gray-stoned structure—a water treatment center from the early Twentieth Century—stood at varying heights. The main buildings reached two stories, while the smaller building connecting them exceeded no more than ground level. Attached to their sides were a tower (which stood another story taller than the building it grew from) and a silo-like structure that dwarfed the aforementioned tower from an opposing side.

Mature Weeping Willows, Cedars, and Maples surrounded the moist area like open-armed sentries. They protected the moisture-stained, overgrown estate from easy detection between Eighty-Fifth and Seventy-Ninth Street Transverse. Its wooded area was cut only by an unmarked creek tendril that perhaps leaked from the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir.

The Hamato boys had said they found the place in Central Park while searching for clues when Bishop had taken Nia. It eased the woman's nerves some, but Donatello's defense is what made her heave a sigh of relief. The mini-forest was protected by a Grandfathered will that prevented further construction. Not to mention his Cloaking Net would cast a 'false imagine' over the area, just in case.

It certainly was wonderful being surrounded by such diverse people—especially geniuses.

"Misses Anders, are you okay?"

Mia faced Donatello then rolled her wheelchair over the front door threshold. "I'm not stuck again, if that's what you mean."

"Sorry," the purple-masked mutant said. He stepped aside as the brunette wiped cool dirt onto her pants. "We sealed off leaks and replaced the metal roofs, but otherwise left the outside untouched. That's all cosmetic."

"I understand. Your funds are best spent on necessities. For now."

Donatello quirked an eye ridge; it lifted his mask.

"I love fiddling with houses," Mia added. "Think this one will be any different?"

"We—we're content people, Misses Anders. We've always taken what we can get and used it to the best of our abilities."

"And now you have a chance to expend."

"I have been careful in my purchases," Melody's dry tone interjected. She knelt amidst the eclectic seat collection surrounding a free-standing woodstove in the living room, several feet from a doublewide staircase that led upstairs. "For months, I have hunted repurpose stores, dumps, alleys, and online bulk deals to ensure I find acceptable material for the least amount of money. Donatello, his brothers, Leatherhead, Sven, and I have also saved manual labor expenses. I would not act frivolously with Baker's checks. I would _never_ take advantage of him."

"I—I don't think that's what Misses Anders meant, Mel," Donatello said over his shoulder.

The cyborg pulled out a round log from a rack below the woodstove then opened its door to drop it into the live fire that was contained by four glass walls.

"Everyone here knows you better than that, Melody!" Michelangelo's voice echoed through the high-ceiling room. He bounced down the stairs, followed closely by Sophia. "We don't gotta worry about you taking advantage of people. It's usually you bending over backwards for others."

The youngest Hamato brother chuckled when he jumped the back of a curved sofa as Melody tensed. She shut the woodstove door then left, passing through an arched entryway beside the staircase that lead to the shortest building.

"Think I embarrassed her?" Michelangelo asked his purple-masked brother.

"You _are_ a giant embarrassment, Figo," Sophia added with crossed arms.

"Yet you're still dating me."

"Meh." The blonde shrugged one shoulder. "I'm still in the 'why the hell not?' stage."

"Naw. You like me. Otherwise, you wouldn't have let me touch your—" The orange-masked mutant paused, caught by the look Mia sent across the living room. In seconds, he sat up straight and cleared his throat. "Right. Behaving for the first mother of the house."

"First?" Sophia questioned.

Michelangelo nodded. "I've been talking with Mia ever since she was in a coma."

Mia laughed.

"She, uh, gave me a little advice on how to handle you a while back."

Sophia's back arched. "Me?"

"'Course I never had the guts for a follow-up call. But what's done is done. Mia's the first mother of the clan and Adeline's the second."

"Speaking of"—Mia's voice earned the group's attention—"I keep telling you boys to call me Mia or Mama. Not Misses Anders."

Donatello shrugged sheepishly under the brunette's playful glare. "Ha—habit, I guess."

"I know you're being respectful, but, really, it makes me feel old. Do I look old?"

"Nope." Standing from his curved seat, Michelangelo spread his arms. "You look great for all the crap you've been through!"

"Th—thanks, Michelangelo," Mia said though a chuckle.

Donatello shook his head, yet his brother looked unashamed, asking,

"Where's your other half? I know us boys are gunna be exiled since Nia's Baby Shower is girls-only, but he doesn't often leave you."

No. Gavin didn't. Not. Ever. His teaching job had been Mia's only relief until Adeline and Sophia moved in.

' _That guy needs friends. Like Splinter. They'd get along great if Gav wasn't so scared. Not to mention…_ ' The brunette sighed. ' _It would help him accept Nia and Raph's twins. They'll be realities soon and…he can't treat them like he did Ni last winter. Her babies will need all the love they can get; the world is cruel enough_.'

"Uh, Mama M?"

Mia flashed the orange-masked mutant a lopsided smile. "Mama M?"

"It's better than 'Mama One', right?"

"Does that make Adeline 'Mama A'?"

Michelangelo pounded a fist into his palm. "Yup. It's officially my headcannon."

"What's a headcannon?"

"It's a fandom thing."

"Fandom?" The term sounded familiar. Maybe Nia talked about it?

"Never mind. So where's Gavin?"

"Surveying the creek for possible fishing areas."

"Gavin fishes?"

Mia smiled. "He tries to hide it, but he's outdoorsy."

"Mister 'I wear suits on a daily basis'?"

The brunette's smile eased. "His suits are just another dimension of his mask, Michelangelo. In them, he feels educated and proper. Someone above the person he used to be in Ireland."

"He's from Ireland?" Donatello asked. When Mia nodded, he shifted. "That makes more sense of his reoccurring accent."

"He works hard to hide that, too."

"Is there anything about himself that he _hasn't_ tried to reinvent?"

Mia met Michelangelo's blue eyes, his curiosity heavy on her chest as she drew in a deep breath. "Don't let him know I told you this. Gavin hated who he was in Ireland. His…sect, his family, were horrible people. Who did horrible things to one another. So for the longest time, he only knew how to be horrible to others as well. It's how he grew up.

"I"—the woman blinked back tears—"I can't give details. That's Gav's story and he hasn't told me all of it. But I can tell you it's work for him to be normal. His comfort zone was with Nia and I. These past two years have thrown so much changes at him that…I don't think he can process it properly. So…

"Be patient. He can be a prick. Sometimes, I don't even understand. I just remind myself of how he was raised, and how far he _has_ come since then. He's never had what you guys have here."

"What's that?" Donatello asked.

"A big, welcoming family," Mia whispered. "A crowd to support and carry you, no matter what. People who cover your back, not stab it…"

"Way to weigh down the mood, Mama M."

Sighing, Mia ran a hand down her face. "Sorry, Michelangelo."

"No worries." The youngest mutant approached Mia's wheelchair to pat her shoulder. Their gazes connected for a moment before he looked over her head, towards a sudden cold draft that overcame the woodstove's warmth. "Finally, he's here. Now we can get this tour started."

"Why's everyone looking at me like that?" Gavin questioned. A soft click cut off the winter air, and Mia shared an amused grin with Donatello when the redhead replaced Michelangelo's hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Like what?" Michelangelo countered while backing up.

" _Like that_. You lot are—whatever." Gavin sighed—a gruff yet tired action. "Adeline's here?"

"Yup. Let me pry her away from the kitchen. Then we'll show you around. I'm tellin' you; Nia's murals are epic. Be right back!"

Mia watched him leave with Sophia and Donatello then laid a hand over her husband's chilled one. "Find a good spot, Gav?"

The man hesitated before answering. "Several. May not be so bad here after all. Least there's open land…"

Slowly, Mia's grin swelled with the hope in her chest. If anything, his response signified a step in the right direction. It was all she could pray for.

* * *

 **A/N:** Slice of life chapter. I enjoyed it, personally. Mia is the mothering-type, so I'm on the lookout for chances to show her interacting with the guys. XD


	26. February 1 (2:01 PM)

**A/N:** At the final stage of this book. It's been a short, wonderful journey. I've really enjoyed writing this slice-of-life (after the initial trauma of, ya know, a home collapsing on the clan). Hope you've all enjoyed it thus far as well.

And continued to follow the clan as it grows. :D

* * *

 **February 1  
** **2:01 P.M.**

Nia felt like a whale. A giant, bloated whale. One who despised her cravings with a passion and couldn't climb stairs and had to pee as often as she sat down.

How much longer would she have to endure this? From what Melody could tell, Nia had conceived sometime in August. Yet recent sonograms and check-ups hinted that the babies were further developed than six months.

So, she had no ball-park idea of when Nia would be due.

' _I feel like it should be soon,_ ' the artist thought, wiggling in her papasan chair. She studied the flames contained in the freestanding woodstove and sighed. ' _My Braxton-Hicks contractions started last month and I'm so tender, I even hate wiping myself…What's everyone talking about again?_ '

Glancing around the living room, Nia spotted her company seated in chairs around the woodstove. Her parents. Adeline. Splinter. Sophia and Michelangelo. They chatted, but Nia's vision focused on Mikey. Why wasn't he in the Dojo sparing with his brothers?

"Mel told us earlier that the gestation period is really weird," the youngest Chūnin said. "Right, Sis?"

He smiled across the circle from a second papasan chair, but the artist only blinked in return.

"Different species require various periods," Gavin said. He glanced at his wife, who shared a loveseat with him. "Even humans don't hold true to the nine-month period for every pregnancy."

"Yeah." Mikey nodded. "What if Nia's ends up lasting a whole year? Or much shorter? What if she gets pregnant again and has a baby in, like, four months?"

Gavin glanced at his grimacing daughter. "That may be stretching matters a bit."

"But it's possible."

"…Maybe."

Mikey chuckled, poking Sophia in a recliner next to him. "Hybrid babies, am I right?"

The blonde kept her thin lips shut tight and avoided eye contact. Anxiety and shame brought heat to her freckled face and chest; Nia sensed the hotspots in her Chi like tiny flames and shared a strained grin with the orange-masked Chūnin.

He tried so hard to ease his girlfriend into the idea. Who knew when she would warm up to it?

"So they can come at any time." Mia's mulling tone caught Nia's attention. "In that case, we should figure out names."

"Ra—Raph and I are still considering possibilities, Mama."

Mia snorted. "I meant for me, Silly. I refuse to be called Grandma. What about you, Gav?"

The redhead tensed, attention set on the woodstove.

"Can't you see the twins running around, calling him 'Poppy'?"

A round of stifled laugher erupted across the living room.

"What are the names in Japanese, Splinter?" Mia asked.

Splinter, snug in an armchair, twitched his black nose. "Depends on the occasion. Formally, they are 'Obaasan' for 'Grandmother' and 'Ojiisan' for 'Grandfather. Those can be shortened to 'Baachan' or 'Jiichan'."

"Which is more affectionate, right?"

"Correct, Mia-san. Sometimes, a child even uses 'Oba' or 'Oji'."

"That's just unfair." Mia ran a hand through her angled bob cut. "Those sound cuter than in English. What about Italian?"

"Nonna and Nonno," Adeline answered. Her lively features lit up like a star as she bounced in her armchair. "Soph wasn't too fond of calling my parents by those names, but since Cosima was the first-born grandchild, she got to pick."

"Adamo and Dina thought it was funny, too," the younger blonde said, head still turned aside.

"Don't throw your cousins under the bus, Soph," chided Adeline. She chuckled, but the act felt hollow, the heat in her Chi cooling. "Wonder how those kids are doing. Evasio was having such issues pushing them through school before we left."

"Only because they were too distracted by Aunt Liana," Sophia added.

"What was wrong with your aunt?" Mia asked as Adeline sighed.

"Cancer," the older blonde replied in a low tone. She forced a smile—a well-practiced action. "My brother's at her side. I'm sure she fought it."

"Fought cancer and won over it are two different things, Mum."

"Sophia."

"It sucks, but it's true." The petite blonde pulled her legs up, perhaps as a distraction from Splinter's pained gaze. "We haven't had contact with them in almost six years. Marco said it; they think we're dead. And we probably won't ever see them again to know for sure."

"Hoshi"—Michelangelo rested a hand on his girlfriend's capris—"have you _met_ my brother Donny?"

"If he tracks them, he may cross paths with Nom de Guerre. That guy's a wild card now. I—I don't even know what he'll do to get back at me for putting off payment."

"But De Gear told Marco where you were. Thought the freak gave up."

Brows lowered, Sophia clenched Mikey's fingers. "He's a Black Market empire, Figo. The Nom de Gear we met was only one of a few, although he's the only one I've seen. I think."

"Really?"

"They do aliases all round the globe. A single person can't do that alone, even if he never slept."

"I see." With a nod, the orange-masked mutant captured Soph's hand then bounced it against her leg. "I'll warn Don about him."

"Huh?"

"He can do it. No one outsmarts Donny in the digital world. What do ya say? Would you like a check-up on your family, Mama A?"

Adeline's mouth hung slack, for once silent. She met Sophia's gaze for no more than a second before smiling again. "Could you? We—we used to be really close, my brother and I, especially after…Cosima. I'd love to know how his family's doing."

"Consider it done!" Mikey fell part-way onto Sophia's recliner, and she didn't fight his hug. Maybe she knew it would be useless if she did. Or more likely she was relieved to get information on those she left in Italy.

' _It made all the difference for me when April-chan told me my parents were alive,_ ' the artist thought.

"A thought just hit me," Michelangelo said. Everyone gave him their attention. "We've all had had to start new lives."

"What's your point?" Gavin asked. He seemed a little too offensive for the casual atmosphere.

"It's just…we're talking about names and rebuilding. This is our new chapter in life, our new home, but we can't exactly call it a 'lair' anymore, can we?"

"It's much more," Mia added.

Mikey sent her a nod. "Our home was leveled, but like the phoenix a new one has risen. A bigger one. And a lot will happen in it. My—my little nieces are gunna be born and grow up here. It—it's a fresh start. For us. Them."

"So," Adeline said, "in other words, your home was reborn."

"Saisei," Splinter interjected.

"Wh—what's that mean, Splinter-san?" Nia questioned.

"Just that," the rat answered. "To be born again. A rebirth."

"Saisei," Mikey echoed. "I like it. What do you think?"

Nia's lips parted for a reply that never came. She sucked in a sharp breath, which led to something worse. Cramps raced through her belly—a severe tenseness that reminder her of her reoccurring nightmares. Her fingers curled around the papasan's fabric cover as she hissed. She twisted it and tried to move her legs sideways.

Usually, a new position helped the false labor pain. Not this time. It worsened, causing her to gasp.

"Nia?" Gavin stood up alongside Mikey. "Are you okay?"

"I—I don't know," Nia answered with another hiss.

Her hand lowered to the crevice below her swollen belly, where her tights' top hem sat. She pulled it away, thinking it may relieve some discomfort.

Nope. The cramps hardly eased before another wave started.

"I, uh, I'm going to get Mel," Mikey said. And like that, he was gone.

"Nia, Honey," Mia started, "do you want help sitting up?"

Nia had no voice to answer with. Cheeks sunken with harsh breaths, she hunched at the pain. Her hand continued pulling at her tights and she shifted for comfort to no avail.

As her mother wheeled forward, her hand slipped between her thighs. It brushed a wet spot, like she had peed herself. But that wasn't the case; pee wasn't gel-like.

Nia's mind blanked, air stolen for another reason. "Guys," she whispered to the standing group, "I…I think I'm going into labor."


	27. February 2 (2:06 AM)

**A/N:** :D

Thanks for the support, guys.

* * *

 **February 2  
** **2:06 A.M.**

Michelangelo noticed Raphael's pacing was unlike normal. The hothead didn't move with frustration or anxiousness, but manic fear. Mikey had to admit: it felt unnerving. And he was sure the whole group sympathized with him.

"Dude," he told his older brother, "you're wearing a hole in Donny's nice, new Lab. Try sitting with the rest of us."

Raphael glanced towards the large company gathered in seats throughout the underground room then continued his short strides, hands balled at his sides.

"I know you were kicked out, Raphy, but—"

"Shut up, Michelangelo," Raph spat. His gaze remained focused on the floor, his voice near demonic. Maybe that's why he felt scarier than usual.

"Wow, did you just…?" Mikey glanced over his shoulder at Adeline and Mia. "He used my full name. Not even an insult!"

The hothead growled—proof he was listening after all.

"Nia's separated, too," added Mikey. His attention returned to Raph. Then, he stretched his hands to keep his worry contained and his tone soft. "Listening to everyone comment about your breakdown probably isn't helping."

"If she can hear us between her screams," Sophia interjected from Mikey's left side. She hunched in her fold-out seat with her arms wrapped around her stomach and looked sickened when new contractions caused Nia's voice to rattle the large Lab.

"I should _be_ in there, dammit!" Raphael roared.

As the pained screams trailed into sobs, he glared at the right door at the room's back wall. Mike could tell his brother fought the urge to burst into the delivery room, so he dared step forward to place a hand on the hothead's shoulder. Raph spun, amber eyes wild, and snarled while brushing off the comfort.

"You were with Nia through most of the labor, Bro," Michelangelo said with watery eyes. "But yo—you know Melody was right. The room isn't gigantic. She and Don need as much free space to move for…for whatever happens."

"Whatever happens?" Raphael echoed. His glare narrowed even further, so his eyes looked like nothing more than bright slits. "I'm her husband, her coach! We prepared for this. _Togeddah_! I should—I should be there no matter what!"

Nia screamed again. The intermittence between cries had shortened within the last hour, and Mikey's racing heart ached whenever his brother flinched at their strangled nature.

"Let me, Michelangelo."

Mikey felt a tap against his wrist before he glanced down. Mia rolled her wheelchair towards Raphael, undaunted by the muscular arms he flailed when he cursed. She caught his hand by some miracle—a gentle, poignant action. The hothead whirled to yell or fight off the contact, Mikey knew it; yet his open mouth fell silent under the woman's stare.

"Nia senses emotions, doesn't she?" Mia asked.

Raph froze, his mouth closing.

"We aren't that far away, Raphael. I'm sure she can sense the energy in this room. It could even over-flood her own. Does she need that pressure on top of giving birth?"

The burly mutant kept quiet, but the silence spoke volumes. Mia understood, so she caught his other arm and made him kneel before her wheelchair by pulling his hands to her knees.

"Th—things weren't goin' well," Raph said in a broken tone. "I thought the scariest thing would be becomin' a parent, but…it ain't. What if"—his voice lowered to a hoarse whisper that barely carried over Nia's distant whimpers—"what if they dun't make it? What if I lose my kids before I even get ta know 'em? Or loose Nia? I…I can't…"

' _He should know by now that it's okay to cry,_ ' Mikey thought, watching Raph's forehead meet Mia's hands on her knees.

The older Chūnin voiced grim concerns that everyone shared, and it came as no surprise when Gavin left the Lab, his face flush and his glasses removed. No one followed him, though; Raph and Mia still had center stage.

"Everything has a reason," Mia whispered. "Good or bad."

"I don't give a shit if them bein' alive marks the end 'a our dimension," Raph snarled. "Losing them would—"

Mia silenced the hothead by pressing her fingers against his mouth. "It would be tragic and I'm praying to God he lets us have them. But if you only want to see the bad in the situation, you'll drown. Trust me. Ni—Nia can't have that. You hear me?"

Maybe Raph did. Maybe he didn't. He never got the chance to say. A cry erupted, severing the conversation. It sounded too high-pitched to be Nia's, too much like Tobias when he was hungry. Michelangelo felt frozen by it, but then he caught Adeline's and Splinter's smiles.

It was a baby's cry.

When the door clicked open, Michelangelo's grin had full reign. Donatello stuck his head out. The genius cuddled something out of view, bloodshot eyes roaming over the large group.

"Where's Gavin?" he asked.

Mike found his thin tone disheartening, and his grin fell when Raphael stood.

"How are they?" the hothead questioned.

Don glossed over him to look down hall beyond the lab's open door. "Can someone get Gavin, _please_?"

"Don"—Raph stepped forward—"how are my kids?"

Donny sigh-groaned. "They're born. Mel recorded the times, but we need Gavin."

Both were born? So why did Mikey not hear more crying?

"I only hear one kid," Raph said, chest puffing. "If there're two, why's only one cryin'?"

The genius didn't answer. His green features were set in a stoic expression and he likely ignored his red-masked brother to maintain it.

"Donatello!"

"Raph, please! _Stop_." Piercing brown eyes silenced Raphael then returned to the door when April entered with the older redhead in tow. "Gavin. Good."

"What do you need?" asked Gavin. Correct the youngest mutant if he was wrong, but did he sound scared?

"Another doctor's opinion," Don answered. "We just…please, come."

Gavin did so without another word. It was the first complaint-free compliance Mikey had ever heard from the man. Did that mean things were really bad?

He hoped not. While he'd known about the twins for no more than half a year, he already adored them. They were his nieces (maybe even nephews). He spent hours talking to them and had so many plans for fun times. Losing one now would crush everyone.

Especially Nia and Raph.

Mike doubted his strength to pull them out of such a depression and the nausea he'd been fighting for hours left his legs too weak to support him any longer.


	28. February 2 (1:58 PM)

**A/N:** Sorry for the late post. Friends. LOL. But now we FINALLY get to my favorite chapter out of the whole book!

 _Sciencegal_ \- Hard not to be mysterious when you're trying to focus. Ha.

 _D_ \- Fiddlesticks, now you have the follow up. :P

Feather - Yea! Thanks again for all the support/love/reviews/gushing/everything. Now here's another chapter. ;D

* * *

 **February 2  
** **1:58 P.M.**

Drugs were Nia's new best friends. She couldn't care less what they were or how Melody came across them; they helped her sleep for a while, which is all she could ask for after ten grueling hours of labor and panic.

Thank God she could barely recall it.

Donatello and Melody had filled in some details. In all honestly, their doctor-side account left Nia uneasy. She'd rather focus on the fact they survived—her and her daughters. So, really, she had no other desire, except to cherish her moments with them.

She lay inside the brick bedroom she shared with Raphael, fresh from a quick shower. A single window set beyond the foot of the king-size bed filtered in minimal sunrays from its dense curtains. The shield kept a headache away, but lent enough light for Nia to study the newborns sleeping on her bare chest.

Their bald heads used their mother's breasts as pillows and they clung to Nia with warm, four-fingered hands. Smiling, Nia stroked the left one's monkey-esque nose. It accentuated her cupid's bow by connecting it with the nose's tip, and created a unique Philrum that she shared with her sister.

Maybe it would be a distinctive look for all hybrid children?

Not like it would be the only distinctive thing. Their skin was a deep green, surpassing their father's, with pebbly patches one would only notice if massaging their elbows and knees. A subtle yellow-green left their cheeks lighter than the rest of their body and their pouty mouths looked to have lipstick already on them.

Their small size still stunned her. They could fit in Donatello's palm when extended—that Nia could remember. Even now they seemed fragile, just big enough to cover her breasts, but their silence no longer frightened her as it had after her first daughter's birth.

"You gave your Mama such a scare," Nia whispered to the one on the right. She brushed the newborn's cheek, noting the dwarfed ears that grew from her head. "Least you can hear," she added in an undertone.

Sucking in hot air from the bedroom, Nia paused; a knock sounded.

"Ni," Raphael's voice penetrated the double-wide door. "Uh, a—are ya up?"

Nia smiled and didn't bother covering up, "Come in, Raph."

* * *

Raphael opened the bedroom door with baited breath. Instinct urged him to barge inside, to run to his family, ensure they were alright. However, a sting in his gut slowed him. His feet crossed the threshold before the door shut behind him and ventured no further.

"Hey," the young woman in bed said. She smiled through the wild dark hair around her.

"Hey," he replied. "How ya feelin'?"

"Better than last night."

The mutant balled his fists when his wife chuckled.

"Melody stitched me up. Gave me meds. I got some sleep and a shower, so I'm just…enjoying the peace before the whole clan wants to see us."

"They've been antsy, waitin'," Raph said towards the brick wall beside him. "We understood ya needed rest, though."

"Did they send you to check on me?"

He nodded.

"So wh—why are you standing all the way over there?"

Raph clenched his jaw then turn his head. He caught Nia's brown-and-teal eyes, their lure agonizing. He forced himself to stay still, yet was powerless against the urge to look at the twins on Nia's bare chest.

"Ya guys are comfortable," he said. "I dun't wanna wake 'em or ruin…anythin'."

"As if." Nia's sweet smile grew. "These girls have been hearing your voice for months. If anything, they'll be glad you're here. Come on."

Raph approached the bed, his heart pounding, his mouth dry. Why was he so nervous? It was just his wife. And two new lives, who would always count on him from this moment onwards…

"My God," the mutant breathed as he sunk onto the bed's right side.

He hesitated before laying a hand on the closest hybrid, his daughter. Her legs were tucked upwards like a frog, her skin just as green as one, and her thin arms wrapped around Nia's boob. Raph smiled at her soft breathing, running a finger along her three-toed foot.

Guess she inherited those from him.

"That's Selene," Nia whispered. "Got to use my name."

Raph kept focused on the newborn and traced a thumb along her back. She lacked a true carapace, although scutes grew over her skin. They looked like gray stepping stones that followed her spine and shoulder blades, collecting at a fanned cluster at the base of her neck. Like her father, she'd never be able to look straight up.

"Hard to believe we thought she wouldn't make it…huh?"

Last night's memories tightened Raphael's throat. "Don should'a told me what the fuck was goin' on sooner."

"Would it have made a difference?"

"Not really, but…"

"Daddy helped figure it out. There are worse things than a mute baby, Raph."

"Yeah; they could'a grown wit' their head conjoined."

Nia's smile fell. "We would've loved them all the same."

"I know. It ain't bad in that sense. A baby cries 'cuz they need somethin', right?" Raph paused before his wife nodded. "Maybe we should put a bell on her."

"A bell?"

Slowly, Raph ducked his head. "Sh—she can't cry. She can't tell us if somethin's wrong."

"You're scared she'll be in trouble…and you won't know."

Damn straight. The mutant could think of nothing worse, short of knowing about the danger then being powerless to stop it.

"Raph"—Nia's gentle touch lifted her husband's chin—"we'll figure it out. Learn sign language. Keep a constant eye on her. Maybe Don can make us special baby monitors, so we can track her heart rate."

"That'd make things a little beddah…wait; can sign language work wit' only eight fingers?"

Nia shrugged. "Guess her language will be unique, too."

Unique? Yeah, that about covered the entire Hamato Clan—extended family included.

"You wanna hold one, Raph?"

"What?"

"Wh—why are you gawking? They're _your_ babies too."

"But they're, like, sleepin'."

"Come on." Nia nudged Selene towards him. "Feeling is very important at this stage, Mel says. It forms a bond. It's comforting for them."

"But." Raph stared at Selene. "Look at 'em! They ain't much bigger than my Shell Cell. Ya _know_ what I do ta that."

The hybrids shook with their mother's sudden laugher, which she quelled only be biting her bottom lip. "Yo—you aren't going to squash your daughters, Raph!"

"Not on purpose," he squeaked.

"Here."

Nia left him no choice. She forced his hand under Selene like a wedge. The newborn felt warmer than expected. Light, too, as if she were weightless. Raph could gather her in one palm, but used both hands to hold her—for safety. The green hybrid curled between his cupped fingers, lying on her back, and his thumbs ran down her slow rising chest to her diaper.

"Sh—she has plastron scutes," Raph said. The smooth, yellow plates also resembled stepping stones; imperfect shapes along Selene's diaphragm and hips.

"They almost match her sister's," Nia said. "She has two additional ones, though. Lower on her hips."

Selene squirmed when her father leaned in closer. He felt paralyzed by her movement, maybe more so since she was silent. Quick breaths proved her awareness, and her puffy eyes squeezed then flickered opened. Raph met her gaze for the first time, taken aback by her innocence and multi-colored irises.

"She's got Heterochromia?"

Nia nodded. "They both do. With the blue parts on opposing sides."

"Really? What caused it?"

Not that discoloration was a bad thing; it added to their charm. Selene's wide eyes resembled Raph's in color, only a dark brown rim muted them. It made the section of blue-green look that much more prominent, like the top-half of her right iris had frosted over.

"Mel said that when I got hit by…by Black it messed up the Melanin distribution."

"The what?"

"Something to do with pigmentation. Apparently, her vision won't be too good in that eye, even if the blue spot gets smaller."

"Gotcha…"

"So," Nia drew out her syllable into a song, her smile returning, "have you thought about a name yet? You've had a few hours."

"'Thing Two' won't suffice?" asked Raph with a smirk.

The new mother pouted then ran her fingers across the second hybrid's head. "We can't keep calling her 'the other one."

"Alright, alright...Nyx."

"Another goddess." Blinking, Nia raised her mismatched eyes to Raph. "Yo—you didn't have to stick with the Greek theme. I just love 'Selene'."

"An' I like 'Nyx'. It's short. Powerful. I mean…she's a child born in the shadows, our shadows. We're the night an'…she will be as well."

"In that case"—Nia sniffled—"I love it. Selene and Nyx Hamato. Our babies."

They were his. What a surreal realization. Even if Raphael felt Selene's form squirm in his hands, her tiny fingers around his thumbs, she seemed like a dream. All three of them did.

Had he really come this far? Did he even deserve such a chance?

Guess none of that mattered since Nia had given everything to him anyway.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Hell if it seemed strange or awkward; he faced Nia with a serious expression. She was speechless when he leaned in for a short kiss and began crying when he broke it. Because, right then, she knew what he meant without him having to utter another word.

These were his girls, his everything. They mattered more than his whims, wants, health, or fears. He would never forsake or regret them. He'd cherish them. And he vowed to forever protect them, no matter the cost.

* * *

 **A/N:** I loved, loved, loved, LOVED writing this chapter. You guys don't even know. Just. *melts* One more chapter left, everyone, then the journey of " _Shift_ " is complete. :)


	29. February 11 (4:12 PM)

**A/N:** Here we have it, Dudes and Dudettes, the final chapter before the Epilogue. :D

 _Sciencegirl_ , right? I love babies. Yaaass.

 _Feather_ , I'm happy to instill such fangirl-like impulses. :)

* * *

 **February 11  
** **4:12 P.M.**

Splinter's new bedroom was smaller than his previous one by more than half the space. At one point, he could lay his futon at least a yard away from his Chabudai which could seat five people on its Zabutons. He could pace, circle his children, set up walls of Asian decor, and it had a calm, open area to meditate in.

Now, he had little more than a Japanese-styled end table that was separated from his futon by a shoji screen panel placed in the short distance between them. There was barely room to sit on the Zabuton at the table, let alone room for error if he lost balance or hosted more company than one clan member.

However, the master held back all complaints.

He was old; to him, the repurposed tower base felt cozy and he had few personal possessions to put on display anyway. Besides, he had already spent too much time in his bedroom during his cancer stage. And with the excitement of newborn twins filling Saisei, why would he want to be anywhere other than the living room?

He had a Bonsai tree, at least. A line of bamboo shoots also grew from a long, low-rise pot. It ran behind a trunk littered with candles yet before two other shoji panels that acted as accents on the truck's two sides. Their thin leaves were beautiful to study during meditation, and Splinter had decided long ago that the larger bedroom beyond the kitchen was best suited for Leonardo.

It would not cramp the Jonin like a Black Lotus cell. He would have comfortable space to retreat to if needs be. There was also room for expansion, perhaps…a future mate.

' _Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo all walk similar paths now. But Leonardo…_ ' Splinter raised a letter that had recently been delivered by April.

Sensei,

My letters have been scarce since last Fall. Forgive me. I've been busy, but now it's late and I can't sleep…

My time here is drawing to a close. I can sense it. We're preparing for something big, something that will end a fifty-year conflict. The mess here will come to a head. And the crazy thing is…it doesn't scare me. I honestly feel like we're going to fight this battle. And win.

' _Fight? Since when did Leonardo ever mention violence? Had he been in a war this whole time?_ ' Splinter's brows furrowed as he continued reading the letter.

Winning. That's what scares me. Because when we do win, I must return home. Don't get me wrong. I miss everybody. I love them. And I bet much has changed. But I…I'll have to leave someone here….

She's helped me through so much. Truth be told, every time I think about telling her my plans, my voice leaves me. I look into her sun eyes and become scared. Scared I'll hurt her. Scared she'll cry for me. Scared I'll never see her smile again…

That's probably the last problem you want to hear, right? If I could've grown attached to any woman, why couldn't it have been someone in New York?

Slowly, Splinter sighed. Leonardo's Kanji cut off without a date or goodbye. The letter was never meant for anyone else; it had been for the Jonin, to talk to himself through his father. Splinter always expected they would be that way, like a diary of sorts. What he never expected was this helpful 'someone'.

Leonardo never mentioned her by name. For safety, he said. Yet through his son Splinter felt he knew this woman. She was honorable, and self-sacrificing, and had an uncanny ability to make his son laugh in his darkest times. They had pulled each other out of a void, from what he read.

Now the question became: would Leonardo leave? Or would his newly-awakened confidence be shattered by losing a battle he assured his father he would win?

"Sensei!" Knock. "Sensei!" Knock. "Sensei!" Double knock.

Placing down the letter, Splinter raised his chin to the narrow door that led into the kitchen's second half. "Come in, Michelangelo."

The door handle turned. Then, three mutant turtles fell inside the bedroom. Michelangelo's chin hit the wood floor and he gagged when the two heavier brothers atop his carapace failed to stand.

"My sons," said Splinter, incapable of hiding a grin. "Perhaps you should be in the basement Dojo, further honing your stealth and agility skills."

Raphael raised a finger to Donatello, who lay at the pile's top. "I'll trust that elevator when Don gets it ta stop squeakin' so damn much."

"We couldn't afford a new one, Raph," the genius spat. "Besides, an elevator takes up less space and is handicap-friendly. Given the circumstances, it was the best choice."

"An' it squeaks like an old mattress."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Raphy Boy?" Michelangelo, pinned yet leaning on his elbows, sought to pull himself out from beneath the pile. "It's hidden by a bookcase door, even. Just pretend you're a secret agent!"

Raphael blanched.

"My sons," Splinter raised a paw and chuckled, "I assume you are not here to complain about our elevator."

As if cold water had drenched the trio, each brother tensed.

"We—we wanted to talk about Leo," Donatello said.

"Yeah," Raphael's gaze narrowed, "he's missin' too much. Our move. Everythin' Gray's done for us. Ya're cancer. Hugh 'n Blaine gettin' closer. Mia knowin' our clan. Pink 'n Adeline."

"Not to mention the birth of his first-ever nieces!" Michelangelo added. His wounded eyes struck Splinter, and the old master prepared himself for his youngest son's continuation. "We're growing without him. It doesn't feel right. He—he needs to be here, Otōsan. We…"

"We want him back," Donatello finished, if a bit uncertain.

"We want our clan together again," Raphael concluded.

Splinter smiled at his children then raised his furry chin higher. "I have also been thinking about Leonardo," he said, a paw flat against the Jonin's letter. "And the time has come to bring him home."

* * *

 **A/N:** Dun, dun, dun. Set up for the next book " _The Distance_ ". Which may take a while...sorry! I'll post the Epilogue here soon.


	30. Epilogue

**A/N:** Like promised, here's the end of the end. Because I'm not cruel enough.

Confused?

Just read. ;)

* * *

 **Epilogue**

April held Tobias with an ease that balanced the infant on her hip while she poured a cup of coffee in her apartment kitchen. "Don't worry, Marina," she said. "I have things handled."

"You sure?" Marina asked. She didn't mean it as a sign of distrust; she was worried, which April could understand.

The redhead turned towards the Latina with a smile. "I won't let anything happen to him, Rina."

"Oh." Marina shook her head, loosening several dark curls from the messy bun she had pulled them back into. "I don't mean it like that, April. It's just...it's Friday night and you're the single one, not me. You should be out having fun."

"The party scene's overrated anyway."

"We feel like we're strong-holding you into this, though."

"No worries. You and Hugh deserve a date night. Besides, hasn't he been planning tonight ever since Christmas?"

Marina's painted lips drew upwards and her dark eyes sparkled with a light April missed seeing in the mirror. "Yeah. It may sound cruel, but…Hugh's arrest made him prioritize things. It's been nice, being his center again."

"Least some of us around here have that relief." April's words were bitter, despite an attempt to quell them. With a sigh, she resituated Tobias so he could rest his head on her shoulder since his neck was obviously growing tired.

"That's what I mean, right there," Marina said, heated. "You're turning twenty-eight this year?"

"Thirty."

"You have every right to want a stable family. It's what I wanted, and though life made me wait until I was forty-three, I love it."

"I don't know. Maybe I'll be one of those people who never have kids of their own. Nia and Raph got Selene and Nyx. You and Hugh have Toby here. Least I won't ever be short of a baby fix."

"That's not the point." Marina's dark gaze stiffened April's body. "You love these kids. I know you do. I do too. But…they're not yours."

No, they weren't. And try as she may to keep jealousy at bay, April succumbed to resentment sometimes. The couples around her had everything she wanted. Why was she left out?

"I think you should seriously consider dating a guy for longer than a month, April," added Marina, soft. "Waiting for Jones…"

The redhead hissed and brought her attention to Tobias. If it weren't for his adorable pouty lips and wonder-filled eyes, her rampage would start, and he didn't need to see that at such an influential stage. "Toby, you are all the man I need in my life right now. So tell Mommy not to worry."

"April—"

"I have a stock pile of baby things. Including diapers that are newborn and Toby's size. Jarred food. Formula. And, yes, it's for sensitive tummies. I have extra Gripe Water, too, just in case Toby's little body gets upset."

Sigh slow, gusto depleted, Marina nodded. "We'll be here around ten or eleven."

"Take as much time as you want. Toby and I may even go see the girls. What do you think of that, Little Man?"

Tobias flashed a toothless smile, gurgling.

"He's really taken a liking to them," said Marina with a laugh. She stepped forward to place a kiss on her son's afro then spared the redhead a thankful look. "Have fun."

"Always."

April watched Marina leave. The poor mother eyed her infant the entire time, until she ran into the entryway on route to the front door. Chuckling, she blew a kiss at Toby, and April waved his chubby arm as she shut the entrance.

"What do say, Tobias?" April asked the tanned boy. "Wanna go see your girlfriends?" Toby waved his arms as if he had no idea how to contain his excitement, making April laugh. "Alright. Let's get you ready then."

Switching Toby to her other hip, April grabbed her coffee mug to place it beside the fridge. She'd finish it before leaving, but first she needed to drop off Tobias at his activity gym. It awaited him in the living room, its bright colors and toys calling for the infant's notice. He gave the attention readily and began hitting the dangling owl toys before the redhead situated him on the padded mat.

"You behave," she told the squealing boy. "I have some things to pack then we can—"

Knock. Knock.

April twisted to the front door. Did Marina forget something? It seemed odd since the knocks were almost hesitant.

"Weird," she muttered.

After a quick glance at Toby, the redhead stood. She reached the door in seconds and wasted no time opening it. Why would she wait? What did she expect to find?

Certainly not who stood beyond it.

His tall body stole all oxygen from the room and his blue eyes stopped time. Striking, bright blue eyes; eyes that had haunted April's hopes and dreams for over a year. They were familiar yet at the same time…not. Something changed in them, a shift that left April reeling with confusion.

"Ca—Casey?" she whispered.

"Hi, Ape," Casey Jones replied.

His strong, hoarse voice caused his ex's fingers to grip the door handle tighter. Was this a dream? Could he be real? What was he holding?

April's misty vision fell to his barrel chest. Inside his giant trench coat, he shielded something small. It squirmed, groaned and sniffled, and without looking up, April brushed aside the unbuttoned coat. She found a pale child bundled in pink clothes. Her face rubbed into Casey, her blonde hair peeking out from below a knitted beanie, but she remained asleep.

"Wh—who is this?" April asked though labored breaths. "Where have you been? Why'd you never answer my texts? Just—what—what makes you think it's okay to come here? Like _this_? Seriously, Jones, what's _wrong_ with you?"

Casey hushed her, unafraid of the redhead's growl. "I know I gotta a lot 'a 'plainin' ta do, Lucy, but I…I didn't know where else ta go."

April scoffed at the Sit Com reference. "How about out west? You seemed to like it there." The blue eyes darkened with pain as Casey's hand fell, but before she found out why, she had to know. "Who is _she_?"

"This?" Casey smiled at the blonde he held. "This is Shadow. She's…she's my daughter, Ape…"

* * *

 **A/N:** Yeah, I went there. Told ya'll I had a plan for Casey. Now he's back. How changed is he? Will he and Ape be able to make amends? Only time will tell.

Meanwhile, I want to give one final thanks to my readers and wonderful regulars. If it weren't for such love, I'd end up keeping my story to myself. LOL Love goes to...

 _D_ \- for reading my romance series because she says it has great balance. :D

 _Zathura_ \- for being so energetic! And gushing. Gotta love the gushing. ;)

 _Sciencegal_ \- for being a sounding board and friend. :3

Feather - for being here from the start and continuously showing interest and support, to the point where she catches my small Easter Eggs. ;D I always look forward to your engaging guesses, gushing, and general reactions.

Thank you all for being such loyal fans. It means _so_ much! *throws glitter and confetti*

Next up in series is " _The Distance_ ", although i'm sure you already know that. It'll follow Leo, roughly from a month into his trip to South America and onward. It's still a massive WIP, so I have no ballpark for its release. Hopes are it'll be done this year. I can't make any promises though. :)

Thanks again!


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